Rend Asunder
by Josie Lange
Summary: With the words "I yield," Lhiannon Amell's path as a Grey Warden changed forever. The story of what changed with those two small words. Begins at the Landsmeet and continues through Awakening. Rated "M" for adult themes, violence, and language.
1. Directions Change

_**Rend Asunder  
**_

_Author's note: Everything is owned by Bioware. I'm just a fan with an imagination. Contains spoilers for The Stolen Throne, The Calling, Origins, and Awakening. The "M" rating will be evident in later chapters (sex, violence, some language). Please read and review (and if anyone wants to beta, I'd welcome it!). Please be gentle; it's my first time (writing fan fiction that is!)._

* * *

They had fought with a savage desperation for nearly a quarter hour. The sounds of armored footsteps echoed through the nearly silent chamber and the smell of residual magic hung in the air. The gathered nobles had pressed themselves against the walls of the Landsmeet chamber in an effort to avoid becoming collateral damage, several of them sporting splashes of blood on their fine clothes. Mage and warrior fought with magic and steel, each trying to assert dominance and victory over the other.

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir was frozen in place and unable to move, his body being crushed by an invisible vice. Adding insult to injury, the mage threw a column of flame at him with a flick of her hand. _She has a weapon drawn…how can she cast?_ He watched helplessly through the flames as the mage circled around him, her vicious long dagger drawn, waiting for him to move again. She had already landed it in several places, bypassing his heavy armor and sinking it into his flesh. Loghain could feel the blood trickling down his skin from the wounds. It was as if she knew _exactly_ where to land her dagger amongst his heavy armor. He could feel the heat from the flames baking him alive inside his armor even as they began to subside. The vice began to loosen its hold and he lunged at the mage, swinging his shield while roaring in pain and anger. She had not been expecting that and the shield hit her full on, throwing her across the floor of the Landsmeet chamber and onto her back.

"Yield, Warden. You cannot hope to defeat me," he taunted her loudly as he felt the last of her vice fade away.

He heard her curse in pain and as he turned to go in for the kill, she hurriedly breathed another spell and sent it to him with a flick of the wrist. This time it was freezing and though for an instant it felt good against his baked skin, it quickly became painful as the cold settled into his bones and made the oil in his armor freeze. He felt his skin grow impossibly cold and begin to split, warm blood welling up from the wounds.

"But I'm not finished yet," she smiled sweetly at him. The smile, however, never reached her eyes.

The mage was immediately on her feet again, her dagger out and slashing at him as he slowly moved toward her. He was able to connect with his sword and opened a wound on her arm through her chain armor. He brought his sword around again and connected with her leg, watching as bright blood spilled out. She screamed and swore in pain but immediately began to chant again. _What I wouldn't give to shut her foul mouth, _Loghain thought. He felt the vice close around him again, paralyzing him painfully in place, and knew that the fight was over. She limped up to him and shoved him onto his back, kicking his sword out of his hand. He could do nothing as he heard it skitter across the floor away from him. She calmly walked over to his other side and plucked the shield out of his hand before crouching down and holding her dagger to his throat. He tried to move but the spell held him fast. Her brown eyes glared at him with rage.

"Do you yield?" she snarled at him, breaking the spell and releasing the vice.

"Perhaps there is a bit of warrior in you after all," he sighed, looking warily between the dagger and her eyes. He took a deep breath and raised his voice so that all could hear, never breaking eye contact with her. "I yield."

How the mighty have fallen.

* * *

Lhiannon Amell could hardly believe her ears. She had just defeated Teyrn Loghain in an honorable duel to settle the Ferelden civil war. Her breath was coming in great gasps as she looked down upon Loghain laying on the floor in defeat. She looked at the dagger in her hand almost in disbelief. The dagger had been Zevran's; how ironic that it helped defeat his former contract holder. Loghain spotted the assassin out of the corner of his eye; that would most likely be the reason the troublesome mage had wielded a dagger so effectively against him. From what he understood, knife work was not one of the lessons taught to mages in the Circle.

"I accept your surrender," she said, sheathing the dagger and raising her voice so that it carried through the chamber as Loghain's did. There was gasping and murmuring from the assembled crowd, the sounds echoing off the walls of the chamber. Ferelden would now be united to defeat the darkspawn threat, as it should have been before. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Queen Anora, who had been standing on the dais wringing her hands together in worry, visibly relax. Lhiannon had not expressly promised the Queen that she would spare Loghain, but told her that if it were possible, she would try. Hopefully this now meant a stronger ally in the Queen. Lhiannon backed away from Loghain and he slowly stood, waiting for what would happen next.

"You…_what_?" Alistair had charged up to Lhiannon from his place near the edge of the chamber. His brow was furrowed in anger and his face turning an alarming shade of red as he approached her. The fury radiated off him in palpable waves. She had never seen him this angry before; her friend looked like a complete stranger to her in that moment. He grabbed her arm and twisted her to face him. She gasped at the strength of his grip, feeling his fingers digging into her flesh. "What in the name of the Maker could you possibly be thinking?"

"Alistair, Loghain has surrendered; I _will not_ kill him. The fighting is over and the civil war ended. He will stand trial to answer for his crimes…"

"No!" Alistair shouted, pointing at Loghain. "He doesn't _deserve _a trial for what he's done! He betrayed the Grey Wardens at Ostagar and left King Cailan and Duncan to be _slaughtered_ by the darkspawn! He named himself regent to usurp the throne _from his own daughter_! Andraste's blood, Lhiannon, he tried to have an Antivan Crow _assassinate_ you!" Alistair had pointed to Zevran, who stood off to the side with a pained look on his face. Clearly, the elf wanted to be anywhere but here. "What Loghain _deserves_ is justice, not mercy. He _deserves_ to die for his crimes!"

"Wait," a voice came from behind Lhiannon. Riordan, the Orlesian Grey Warden they rescued from the dungeon at Arl Rendon Howe's estate, stepped forward and placed an arm in front of Alistair. He gently pulled Lhiannon back a step and Alistair let her arm go. "Alistair, there is another option here. Make Loghain undergo the Joining."

Lhiannon turned and glared at Loghain, arrogant satisfaction in her eyes. "Yes, I think that's an excellent idea."

Anora had come forward from the dais to stand next to her father, a puzzled look on her face. "The Joining? But is that not dangerous? Could that not kill him?"

Loghain was watching the unfolding events with both fascination and contempt. How in the Black City did these two…_lickspittles_…get this far? While the mage had at least half a brain in her head, Maric's bastard let his emotions override his judgment; like Maric sometimes did, Maker help us all. That trait obviously carried through the Theirin bloodline. Loghain kept his face passive, but it was extremely difficult. The only thing that could make this whole affair even more ridiculous would be if the archdemon itself appeared in the chamber carrying a tray of pastries.

"Are you serious?" Alistair asked Riordan, ignoring Anora completely. He could not believe what he was hearing. "Becoming a Grey Warden is an _honor_, not for a traitorous, murdering…bastard…like this! I won't allow it." He stepped toward Riordan and Lhiannon menacingly, fists clenched at his sides in anger.

"Alistair, please," Riordan pleaded, keeping his voice low and even. "There are compelling reasons as to why we need as many Grey Wardens as possible facing the archdemon."

Lhiannon put her hands on Alistair's chest plate to stop his advancement. "Alistair, be reasonable," she said firmly. "It will work. What better way could there be for him to atone for his crimes but to become a Grey Warden? We are too few and could use his skill…"

Alistair slapped her hands away from him, the shock traveling up her arms. "Absolutely not! I will not allow Loghain to live and become a Grey Warden. _I will not call him brother._ If taking the crown and marrying…_her_…is what it will take to see justice done, then I'll do it. I'll take the crown and become King." He turned to glare at Anora. "And if you think I'm just going to roll over and let you rule alone, you are sorely mistaken." He pulled his sword and walked toward Loghain threateningly.

"Alistair, wait," Lhiannon barked and stepped in front of him. "Did Duncan ever tell you how he became a Grey Warden? Did you ever ask him during your travels?"

"What could that possibly have to do with this? Get out of my way Lhiannon."

Lhiannon grabbed his arm to stop his advancement. "Duncan did not become a Grey Warden by choice, Alistair. He was to be executed for murder," Alistair flinched at the word but kept his gaze locked on Loghain. "He murdered a Grey Warden in Val Royeaux while robbing him and was going to be executed when the Warden Commander found him. She conscripted him because she thought it was impressive, that he was able to kill a Grey Warden." She paused, watching Alistair's face go from righteous anger to anguish. She felt terrible, saying these things to her friend about the man that they had both admired and respected, but she knew she had to continue. "The Warden Commander had hoped he would die in the Joining—it was her fiancé he murdered. But he did not die. He lived. He did his duty as a Grey Warden and found redemption in that duty. If Duncan could be redeemed, so can Loghain."

Alistair looked like he was going to be sick, his face beginning to crumple and his skin turning ashen. How could she do this after all Loghain had done? How could she argue for his worthless life? After a moment, his features began to harden and the anger flashed in his eyes. He wrenched his arm from her grip and turned on her, pushing her away from him. Riordan had to extend a hand to catch her before she fell.

"How can you say those things about him? Duncan was a good man! Are you so desperate to spare Loghain's life that you would resort to _lies_? I never expected you to turn on me, Lhiannon."

"Alistair," Riordan said cautiously, keeping is voice calm, even. "Lhiannon speaks the truth. Duncan told me the story years ago, when I was recruited into the Grey Wardens."

Alistair raised his sword and looked at both Lhiannon and Riordan in turn before turning toward Loghain. "None of this matters," he spat. "Justice will be done and I will be the one to deliver it if neither of you are brave enough to do so." He raised his sword toward Loghain. "May the demons take your soul." Loghain stared into Alistair's face; if he was going to die, he was going to do it with his eyes open.

Lhiannon took a deep breath and gathered her composure, readying herself for Alistair's inevitable fury. "Alistair Theirin," she spoke in her most formal voice; the tone of her voice made him pause. It was the voice of command and his pause was instinctual. "As a Grey Warden I do hereby invoke the Right of Conscription. Loghain Mac Tir will submit to the Joining." Loghain's wary eyes moved over to her, but he said nothing. A murmur rippled through the assembly.

Alistair turned away from Loghain, lowering his sword, the hatred evident on his face. Not even he could deny the Right. "_What? _You…you...invoke the Right of Conscription…for _him_?" He turned and looked at Lhiannon, pointing accusingly at Loghain. Her face was both full of sorrow and determination, but her shoulders were square, resolute in her decision. He could not believe what she had done. Not only had she shown Loghain the mercy he in no way deserved, but she planned to make him a Grey Warden. It was outrageous. That his friend could betray him like this… "I had rarely doubted the wisdom of your decisions before, but I cannot support this one. Fine then. Take him, Maker damn you. Take him and get out of my sight." He turned to the assembled Landsmeet.

"Everyone, prepare your armies and land holdings. I will pick up my brother Cailan's sword and see this battle with the darkspawn through to the end. May Andraste bless us and guide us to victory in the Maker's name." The nobles began to file out of the hall. Alistair turned and left the Landsmeet chamber, Arl Eamon following him. Lhiannon watched him go, her heart breaking. She whipped her head around toward Loghain and eyed him coldly; his returning stare was just as cold.

"You," she snarled at him, "will join Riordan and I in his quarters this evening for the Joining. I'd get your affairs in order, were I you." Loghain gave Lhiannon a barely perceptible nod before going to Anora's side. She led him out of the Landsmeet chamber.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! There's a lot more to come..._


	2. Brother

The solemn Joining ceremony was being prepared in Riordan's guest room of the castle. Anora had insisted on attending, even bringing an ornate chalice from her chambers to serve as the vessel; Lhiannon saw no reason why she should not attend. After all, this could very easily be Loghain's execution. Lhiannon made it very clear to Anora that it was possible Loghain would not survive; did she really want to witness that? The Queen had squared her shoulders and firmly told Lhiannon that she would remain. She stood next to her father, whispering words of encouragement to him. She had taken his hand as he watched the preparations, his expression passive. If he felt anxious about the whole affair, he did not show it.

Loghain knew the ritual involved consuming darkspawn blood. It made him uneasy. He also would not put it past this Warden, _from Orlais_, to add something else to the cup to make certain he would not survive. Loghain was sure that there were many people still in Orlais who would pay a handsome price to the person who killed the Hero of River Dane. Riordan claimed he was a native Ferelden; even so, there were many who would sell their allegiance for the right amount of coin, land, or favor. For many years, Loghain believed the Grey Wardens were secretly conspiring with the Orlesians to retake Ferelden. They had tried to overthrow the Ferelden throne before, which is what had them driven out in the first place. Then came that business with the Circle and its Orlesian First Enchanter not so long ago. No, the Grey Wardens were not to be trusted. When Maric had agreed after that fiasco at the tower to allow the Grey Wardens to stay in Ferelden permanently, Loghain had bitterly and vehemently opposed the idea. But, when Maric made up his mind, he could be unyielding. Loghain found it both amusing and exasperating that he was always considered to be the obstinate one, but Maric could be just as obstinate when he wanted to be.

Lhiannon and Riordan were at the small table, preparing the chalice that would hold the darkspawn blood. Loghain noticed that Lhiannon was doing most of the preparations; Riordan probably knew of Loghain's loathing for all things Orlesian and thought it best to have Lhiannon carry out the ritual. She poured some wine into the chalice, then removed a small vial from her pack and added its contents to the chalice. The blood was thick, black, and smelled faintly of corruption. That was a smell Loghain could never forget. She swirled the contents together in the chalice, then looked into Loghain's eyes.

"Join us, brother. Join us in the shadows, where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry out the duty that cannot be foresworn; and should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

She handed him the chalice. Loghain took it and raised it to his lips. The combination of the wine and the darkspawn blood made his stomach lurch and he grimaced.

"I understand. If this is how I am to serve Ferelden, then I accept." He took a deep breath and began to drink.

"We call upon you to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good. From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden."

He finished. Almost immediately he felt the liquid burn his throat and continue down to his stomach, where it turned to ice. The chalice fell from his hand, making a loud clattering sound when it hit the floor. He doubled over, the pain radiating out from his core and lighting every nerve on fire. His vision doubled, then tripled before turning black. He saw a vision of a hideous great dragon; a deafening roar burst forth from its massive jaws. Where dragons were generally majestic creatures, this one was the physical manifestation of malevolence and death. Just as quickly as it came, the dragon faded from view. He could feel himself falling, whether it was to the floor or into some great black abyss, he could not tell. He thought he had heard Anora's voice through he pain, but he uncertain. It sounded so far away. Finally, the blackness was complete and he knew no more.

Loghain opened his eyes sometime later to find himself lying on Riordan's bed, Anora sitting on it beside him. He was still in his heavy armor, so he must not have been unconscious for too long. Riordan and Lhiannon were standing at the foot of the bed looking down at him, their faces solemn and thoughts unknown. Except that was not exactly true any longer. When he focused his new sense on Riordan, he felt calmness in the taint. _She _was an altogether different matter. Loghain was unable to tell exactly what he was sensing from her, but knew it was anything but calm; it felt bitter. He was still feeling both disoriented and nauseous from the Joining, his skin pale and a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Father! You're awake", Anora exclaimed, relieved that he had finally woken up. Riordan and Lhiannon had known right away that Loghain would survive the Joining, but Anora was hesitant to believe them and refused to leave until he awakened. She helped him sit up on the bed. He swooned slightly but Anora kept him steady. She smoothed his hair and pulled a handkerchief from her dress, gently patting his brow with it. Loghain looked at her, irritated, and held up his hand to gently move hers away.

"I am fine, Anora." He did not need to be fussed over like a sick child, especially in front of these Grey Wardens.

"And for that, I thank the Maker," she said, stroking his cheek with love. "But now that you are awake and well I must go find my betrothed to make sure he hasn't been a complete fool while I've been gone, tearing up the palace with his foolish rants. I trust I'll see you before you leave, yes?" Loghain nodded to her and she turned to leave. "Wardens," she nodded to them as she left.

* * *

The next morning, the nobles of the Landsmeet began to go their separate ways to prepare for the inevitable arrival of the archdemon and the horde. A sense of urgency had descended on Denerim, the populace scurrying about and the anxiousness so thick it was almost palpable. Lhiannon likewise gathered her companions and asked them to make ready to leave Denerim. As she was walking back to her room to gather what few things she had, she rounded a corner and bumped into a large figure in gleaming plate armor. Muttering an apology, she moved to side step the figure but was jerked to a stop as the figure reached out and grabbed her arm.

Alistair. She was so preoccupied that she had not sensed him through the taint.

"Well, there you are," he said, his voice full of contempt. "Leaving so soon? I thought you would at least be throwing an engagement party for the happy couple."

Lhiannon sighed, knowing he would not make this easy for her. "Alistair, I'm sorry. I did what I thought was best for Ferelden by making Loghain submit to the Joining. I had hoped to add to the number of Grey Wardens and increase our chances of success against the archdemon."

"I know _you_ believe it was for the best. That…traitor…I still can't believe you made him one of us. He let the Grey Wardens and King Cailan _die_ at Ostagar because he thought he could defend Ferelden from the Orlesians by himself."

Lhiannon pulled her arm out of his hand. "Alistair, please, King Cailan was warned to stay off the front lines, but he wouldn't listen. And I would rather not discuss Loghain at the moment…"

"Well that's too bad then, isn't it? He's pretty much all I can think about right now. Every time I look at _her_, I see _him_."

"Since you insist on speaking of Loghain," she began, her voice taking on an indignant tone, "say we did execute him instead of making him take the Joining. What do you think would have happened?"

"He would be _dead_."

Lhiannon rolled her eyes at him; sometimes she just wanted to _shake_ him. "Other than dead, Alistair."

He returned her indignant glare with one of his own, small red splotches forming high on his cheeks. "His followers would have had no choice but to get behind the Crown and then _we_ would be on our way to confront the archdemon."

"In a perfect world, yes Alistair, that would happen." Lhiannon spread her hands in front of her, pleading for him to listen and not just hear. "But we don't _live _in a perfect world. Had we summarily executed him without any sort of trial, his followers would have made him a martyr. He still has many, many followers among both the nobility and the common people. Maker's mercy Alistair, he's still seen as a bloody _hero_ among the people." She watched the color flush Alistair's face once again. "Do you think his followers would sit idly by? I think they would have rose up against the Grey Wardens and we would _still _have civil war. How long do you think it would have been until someone buried a dagger in our backs?"

"I think you're wrong," he spat at her.

Lhiannon pointed an accusatory finger at him, choking back angry tears. "Then perhaps _you_ should have been the senior Warden right from the start instead of forcing _me_ to do it!" She watched as the color drained from Alistair's face, replaced by both shock and guilt. "You're the one who forced me into the leadership role and make the hard decisions. I did what I thought was best for Ferelden! I didn't have the luxury of others making the decisions for me."

Alistair stared down at his feet and if his glare could have bored holes through his armored boots, it would have done so. Lhiannon watched him take a deep breath and saw his throat working as if to choke back angry tears of his own.

"Alistair," she began in a low, soft voice. "I don't want to part this way. We've been through too much together."

He paused for a moment, still looking down at his feet. When he looked back at Lhiannon, his tone had softened, if only slightly.

"Look, I came to wish you good luck; you'll need it. You have a lot to do. I suppose I do as well, now that I'm to be King." Without another word, he turned and walked away. Loghain's Joining was going to have a heavy cost. Alistair was a stranger to Lhiannon now; could he even be her enemy? Best to leave now before matters became worse. With a sad sigh, she continued to her room. Weisshaupt was looking more attractive by the second.

* * *

"Are you feeling all right?"

Loghain looked up from where he was filling his traveling pack to see Anora in the door of his chambers, a look of concern on her face. That particular look tore at his heart, as it always did. He hated seeing that look, especially when he was the focus of it.

"I've been better, but I'll manage."

Anora came into his chambers and began to help her father assemble his pack. She always hated to see him leave Denerim. Though they were known to squabble between themselves—the both of them more alike that either would care to admit—she always felt a deep sense of sadness when he left.

Loghain was likewise feeling melancholy about leaving Anora and Denerim. Yes, she had been queen for five years now and was a completely competent ruler, but to Loghain she was always his little girl back in Gwaren. She was forever in braided pigtails in his mind's eye, either running through the manor or riding with him on his horse. There was no finer daughter in Denerim, of that he was certain. He hated leaving her behind while the darkspawn threatened Ferelden. He would have much rather stayed at her side to defend her.

"Are you traveling to Redcliffe then?" Anora asked. She knew the Grey Wardens would eventually rendezvous with their gathered army there, however the silence in the room was deafening and she had to say something to fill it. Loghain continued to take the items that Anora handed him, filling his pack with extra clothing and supplies.

"Yes, the Grey Wardens will be heading there eventually, as they suspect the archdemon will ultimately show itself there." He paused for a moment and then scoffed. "I still can't believe that I'm one of them now. That was the last thing I expected."

Anora looked at him, a wan smile on her face. "I don't know what I would have done, had the Grey Wardens decided to execute you. I think I would have gone mad." She shuddered; she could not get the picture of a sword slicing through her father's neck out of her mind. She thanked the Maker that the Grey Wardens—Lhiannon anyway—did not go through with an execution. Alistair was another matter however and she would have to deal with that soon enough.

"Father, what do you think of this Grey Warden, Lhiannon? I spoke to her briefly before the Landsmeet. She seems a capable sort; she wanted to us fight the darkspawn and not each other, as I did."

Loghain finished placing clothing into his pack and tied it shut. He looked up at the wall, deep in thought for a moment. What did he think of the Warden? An excellent question, that.

"I thought her troublesome. She's a Grey Warden; it's no secret that I haven't trusted them since they returned to Ferelden years ago. They answer to no one and that alone is bothersome. They think they're above everyone else, that only they know what's best."

Loghain took his pack of extra clothing off the bed and moved it next to the door. He turned to his armor stand where he kept a set of studded leather armor. He thought about leaving it behind, but not knowing when he would be back in Denerim, decided to take it. He began to remove the armor from the stand, using the straps to fasten the pieces together to be carried in a single bundle.

"I think I underestimated her resolve," he admitted reluctantly. "I never thought she would be able to gather an army, not this easily anyway. She's a mage and there is a great deal of mistrust for them." He paused for a moment, turning to look Anora in the eye. "Perhaps she deserves some respect for what she has done."

"She does want to defeat the darkspawn; she is very determined to see that through. She wants to help Ferelden," Anora said. She went to Loghain's side and helped him secure the last of his armor, then carried some of the smaller pieces to his door as he carried the larger ones.

He set the pieces on the floor then turned and gently grasped Anora by the shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes, blue like his own. "Anora, I can't stress this to you enough: don't let the Orlesians into Ferelden. Don't let them try to help us. We Fereldens can turn back this Blight ourselves." Anora opened her mouth to protest, but Loghain held up a hand to stop it. "The Orlesians _will_ betray you; I've seen it before. You _must_ trust me on this. Empress Celene is Emperor Florian's daughter—the one who kept Ferelden under his boot; the one who kept Meghren on the throne. The apple does not fall far from the tree, Anora."

Anora had to fight back a sigh. This was an old argument between her and her father. She had mentioned bringing the Orlesians in once before in front of Arl Howe and her father had vehemently opposed it, ranting about them so angrily that Anora had to leave the room before she had said something she would later regret. However, she trusted him. He did have far more experience with Orlesians than her, and they were well known for brutal politics and treachery. It was a game to them. He had a point, she had to give him that.

"Father," Anora begun, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest, "I do trust you. Now that Ferelden is united, we will try this ourselves. I won't call on the Orlesian forces unless there is no other option." She pulled her head away and looked up at her father, her eyes growing hard. "But I will call them if I must."

"We _will_ succeed, Anora," Loghain said confidently, wrapping his arms around her, settling his chin atop her head. His heart swelled with love for her; he would do anything to protect her. "There will be no need for them. I promise you."

* * *

_A/N: Had to tie up some loose ends before hitting the road. Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and alerted the story so far. I appreciate it!_


	3. Fireside

Lhiannon settled herself by the fire to begin her watch, her mabari warhound Tiberius at her side. The spot they had chosen for camp was in a small copse of trees between the road and a small creek that ran nearby. They had left Denerim earlier that day once the official business with the Landsmeet was finished. They were moving southwest toward Redcliffe to eventually join Arl Eamon and the armies by following the West Road toward Lothering. Lhiannon wanted to see what was left of Lothering on the way. Perhaps they would gain further insight into the horde and ascertain if the archdemon had made its presence known yet.

Lhiannon was quietly mourning the loss of her friendship with Alistair. She worked to keep her shoulders square and her chin up as they traveled, trying her best to keep a brave face on. As much as she wanted to show an air of confidence, she had been quiet and pensive all day, which had troubled Leliana greatly. Leliana had the first watch that night and when Lhiannon had come to relieve her, she had sat with Lhiannon for a few moments, concerned for her friend. "I miss your laughter," Leliana had said to her, taking Lhiannon's hand in hers. Lhiannon had sighed heavily and turned to Leliana, her eyes bright with tears.

"What if I've made Alistair my enemy now, Leliana? I wanted to stop the civil war. I thought making Loghain a Grey Warden would help us against the Blight. We _needed _more Grey Wardens. Was it so wrong?" Lhiannon stopped, pausing for a moment to fight the lump that was forming in her throat. "I've betrayed him."

Leliana squeezed Lhiannon's hand, trying to offer what comfort she could. "Alistair is hurt and angry with you, that is true. I find it hard to believe he would consider you an enemy. The bonds of friendship between you are strong, but he needs time." She paused for a moment, gazing into the fire before speaking again. "The Maker guides our hands, Lhiannon. He called for you to show mercy to Loghain. Though we may not know the reason now, the Maker will reveal it in time. In that light, no, it was not wrong."

They had sat next to the fire for several moments, Lhiannon staring into the flames and watching them dance along the logs inside. Eventually she brought her hands up to her face, rubbing the skin and brushing the tears from her eyes. She held them there for a moment before bringing them down to her lap and staring at them. "I miss him already. I miss that silly grin and his silly jokes. I even miss how he burned everything when it was his turn to cook."

"Oh, I don't know that I would go quite _that _far," Leliana quipped, bringing a small, wan smile to Lhiannon's face. "I believe that, in time, he will come to understand your decision, Lhiannon. You did what you believed was best for Ferelden. It was a difficult decision to make."

Lhiannon sighed, reaching over for Leliana's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I am unsure that he will, but I thank you for your kind words."

Leliana turned and gave Lhiannon a gentle hug before retiring to her tent. Somehow, talking about what happened helped Lhiannon feel slightly better and drive the doubt from her mind. Her thoughts still lingered on Alistair however. They had grown close in the months since Lhiannon's Joining. They had shared their nightmares and took solace from the other when the dreams were especially terrifying. They mourned Duncan's loss together and sought to avenge him in every battle with the darkspawn and by gaining their allies, thus weakening Loghain's position. Their friendship was special to her. They had not taken their relationship further than that however; she had cared for him too much to risk losing him forever had they become lovers and something go wrong. _Maybe I should have taken a chance_, she thought bitterly, _since I've undoubtedly destroyed whatever friendship we had._ Loghain's conscription had better be worth the price paid.

Loghain had said little that first day on the road. He traveled by himself for the most part, making no particular overtures to anyone. Lhiannon had only spoken to him briefly; to tell him where and when to meet the group and what their destination would be. Tiberius, however, was fascinated with Loghain. Several hours after they had left Denerim she spotted him trotting by Loghain's side. She had noticed the way Tiberius cocked his head while looking at Loghain, one ear standing straight up. She had seen that look from her hound often enough to know that he was trying to figure something out. Loghain had even patted Tiberius on the head at one point, looking as relaxed as she had seen him thus far. Somehow, Tiberius had broken through the man's cold demeanor.

Lhiannon was gazing into the fire when the taint in her blood flickered. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind to it. It was not the sense of darkspawn approaching; thank the Maker for small favors. Loghain had awakened. Lhiannon reached over to the teapot that was always near the fire, poured water from her flask into it, and set it on the coals. He was going to have questions; it was only a matter of time now. Tiberius opened an eye to look at her, then rolled over onto his back, exposing his stomach for scratches. Lhiannon obliged him.

* * *

It was night, but unlike any night Loghain had seen before. He was in a valley or a chasm of some type, stone walls rising far above his head. The stone was so dark that it was hard to tell where it ended and the sky above began. The sky was inky black and no dim stars dotted the expanse. The darkness had a heavy, oppressive quality to it, blanketing him in a thick gauzy haze. It reminded him of the time spent in the Deep Roads, after he had set fire to the spider webs in the thaig he, Maric, Rowan, and Katriel were traveling through. His current surroundings were closely reminiscent of the thaig, which made him uneasy. He was not nearly choking to death this time however and instead of the clicking sounds of giant spiders, he heard an ear-piercing roar from behind him. He whirled about, automatically dropping his hand to the hilt of his sword and lowering into a crouch, looking for the creature that could make such a noise. From the darkness, the archdemon appeared and took sight of him, studying Loghain as if it were committing his features to memory. It roared again, displaying rows of massive teeth, sending icy fingers down Loghain's spine and hot, rotten breath into his face. He was terrified.

"Makers breath!" He felt himself rooted to the ground in terror, unable to move or breathe. The archdemon reached for him with its many teeth, looking to snap him up and swallow him whole—

Loghain awoke with a start and sat straight up, a cold, slimy sweat over his body. His chest heaved in and out as he fought to catch his breath and contain his terror. It took him a few seconds to focus on his surroundings before he realized that he was on his bedroll in his tent, his armor in a neat pile and his longbow and sword at his side. He had dreamed before about the darkspawn in the months after emerging from the Deep Roads so long ago, but those dreams were just that—dreams. Those dreams were jumbled and without reason or meaning; mostly disjointed images. Sometimes they included cheese, which Maric would have found endlessly entertaining. He never awoke from them feeling like his heart was going to hammer its way through his ribs and out his chest.

"It seemed so bloody _real_," he muttered to himself, running his hands through his dark hair in an attempt to smooth it out. With shaking hands he picked up a discarded shirt, poured some water from his flask on it and wiped his face, resting his head in his hands after he finished. The cool water helped to drive the last tendrils of the dream out of his mind. After a few moments his hands ceased their shaking and his breathing returned to normal. He was grateful that he was inside his tent rather than sleeping on his bedroll in the open. He bristled at the thought of his "companions" seeing him shaking like a scared little girl over a bad dream.

He sensed that it was still several hours yet until sunrise. He had slept little and his mind told him that returning to sleep this night would be impossible. _If I'm going to be awake, I might as well do something useful_, he thought irritably. His bow needed to be restrung; working with his weapons and armor always seemed to bring him some ease. He went to his pack, dug out a clean longshirt and leather trousers, and dressed quietly. Grabbing his bow and supplies, he exited his tent and looked toward the campfire.

Lhiannon was on watch, sitting next to the fire with the warhound; the first and last person he wanted to have as company. She looked up at him when she heard his exit from the tent. Tiberius turned his head toward Loghain, then relaxed again as Lhiannon absentmindedly scratched his stomach. Loghain paused for a moment before walking over and sitting down on a log nearly across from Lhiannon, avoiding the smoke the drifted lazily from the fire. She looked at him as he sat, one eyebrow raised in silent questioning.

"Was it the archdemon?" she asked.

"What?"

"Your dream—was it the archdemon?"

"How did you know…?" Loghain growled. "Ah yes, the taint. At least I passed your little test. Fate does indeed have a sense of humor."

If his response put Lhiannon off, she did not show it. "Yes. The taint not only allows us to sense the darkspawn, but also other Grey Wardens. We can also sense some changes in the taint."

Loghain was silent for several moments, gazing into the fire. Lhiannon saw that his stare was intense and brooding. She returned her gaze to the fire and waited; she thought that he would either say something soon or skulk back to his tent. If he was just going to sit there and glower like a scolded child, she would rather he returned to his tent. His reputation as a taciturn man was certainly well earned. He turned and looked at Lhiannon. "Are all dreams after the Joining so unsettling?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Not all of them; at least, not all of mine. Regular darkspawn don't seem to trouble me so much any longer. Whenever I dream about the archdemon however, I find myself having trouble sleeping for days. I understand some Wardens can block the dreams, but I haven't had such luck." Lhiannon shivered involuntarily, wrapping her arms around herself. "Wynne has herbs that can help bring dreamless sleep. I brew them into a tea that I'll take before bed. It helps." She gestured to the teapot, bubbling merrily among the coals of the fire. "Would you like some tea?"

"No."

"Perhaps next time then," Lhiannon shrugged. She laced her fingers and stretched her arms above her head, listening to the crackle of her joints as she reached overhead. When she was finished, she picked up her mug and filled it with steaming tea; plain this time. She would save the herbed tea for when she really needed it. For the most part, she enjoyed her turn at keeping watch. There was something about the fire and a simple cup of tea that always left her with a feeling of contentment. She doubted contentment would come this night however. Absentmindedly, she reached down and scratched Tiberius on his stomach again; he snorted and sighed with delight.

Loghain began working with his bow. It was a rich brown color and looked old, but well cared for. Lhiannon noticed the deftness of his fingers in stringing it. How many times had he done that? Had he memorized every bump, every nick, and the feel of every individual grain? _He could probably restring the bow in his sleep_, she thought. He was adjusting the tension on his bow when he spoke.

"Warden, I would know the reason behind your actions at the Landsmeet."

"First off, you need not call me Warden. Lhiannon will be fine."

"As you wish, _Lhiannon_," he scowled at her. This was certainly off to a fine start then.

"I'll certainly tell you what I can. What is it you wish to know?"

"Why did _you_ participate in the duel? Why not send Maric's bastard instead?"

She thought about how she would answer for a moment. He said nothing, but continued to work on his bow. "The others look to me as a leader. When the time came for the duel, I was the natural choice. I was rather anxious about it."

He stopped working on his bow and looked at her. "Why?" he demanded.

"Why?" Lhiannon snorted, "you were standing there in your heavy armor, with an enormous shield in one hand and long sword in the other—staring down a female mage and ready to defend Ferelden to the death—and you ask me why I was anxious? You were an intimidating sight! I went forward with it because you weren't a templar. I knew I had a very good chance against you with my magic. A templar could have drained my mana and sliced me to bits before you could say 'Andraste's mercy'."

Loghain growled. "Magic," he spat. "That is the _only_ reason you bested me. Had you not cast magic, we would not be here."

"I don't disagree."

Satisfied with the tension on his bow, Loghain set it aside. He turned to his pack and brought out shafts and arrowheads to begin crafting new arrows. Lhiannon knew he was an accomplished archer during the rebellion. Another archer among them would be an asset when the time came for scouting out darkspawn. That was one thing Alistair was never very good at. With his size and his noisy plate armor, he was about as subtle as an ogre. The whole bannorn could hear him crashing through the underbrush. Lhiannon sighed wistfully.

Loghain was fashioning an arrow when he spoke again. "And what of the decision to make me undergo the Joining? Wouldn't it have been easier to execute me for my crimes?"

Lhiannon scoffed. "My intention was to see you stand trial, not simply remove you as a threat." She paused, waiting for him to look her in the eye. It took several moments of silence before he looked up at her. When he did, she stared at him intently. "_I _do not believe in summary executions."

He glared at her for a moment before breaking eye contact, staring into the fire between them. She saw a dark look cross his features briefly before he set his jaw and continued to work on his arrows. She felt a ripple through the taint that told her she hit a little too close to the mark for his liking.

"Becoming a Grey Warden could be seen as a slow execution," she continued after a moment of profound silence. Loghain again shifted his eyes to her, wary. Lhiannon continued. "Our bodies can only fight the taint for so long. Thirty years give or take. There are too few Grey Wardens in Ferelden as it is and we need someone of your skills. It is the perfect way for you to atone for your crimes and help defeat the Blight."

"Maric's bastard would have been content to have me executed," he growled.

"Then you should consider yourself fortunate that _I_ am the senior Grey Warden and not him." Lhiannon paused, waiting for Loghain's reaction. Seeing no appreciable one, she continued. "You are a war hero. A brilliant tactician. The legends have you and King Maric fighting off the Orlesian usurper and his armies with your bare hands. I know that's just what the tales say, but having you among the Grey Wardens is an asset, not a detriment. Much can be learned from you. No matter what my personal feelings are on the matter, the Grey Wardens require someone like you."

"It is no secret that I distrust the Grey Wardens," he began, his voice unyielding. "They answer to no one and have proven themselves treacherous in the past. There were Grey Wardens involved with the Orlesians at the Circle not so long ago, as I'm sure you're well aware. The First Enchanter captured Maric and was going to send him off to Orlais as a prize. Maric said the Grey Wardens weren't directly involved in that, but I had my doubts. I still do." He paused, gathering his thoughts. He turned and leaned toward Lhiannon, pointing an accusing finger at her and speaking in a cold, deadly voice.

"If you are using the Blight as a ruse to aid the Orlesians, I will separate your head from your neck, Grey Warden or no. This I promise you."

Lhiannon leaned toward Loghain herself, closing the gap between then. She glared into his blue eyes, the venom in her voice clear. "I can assure you that I don't give a _damn_ about Orlesians. _They can_ _rot_. I know all too well what Remille did to the Ferelden mages and templars when he took over Kinloch Hold. I am working to _stop the Blight_. Just like _you_ are now."

They were silent for a long time, listening to the sounds of the camp, the popping of logs on the fire, and Tiberius' snoring. _At least someone is getting some sleep_, Loghain thought. He had finished fashioning the arrows and sat by the fire, staring into it. Lhiannon had finished her tea and set the cup aside. She had her head turned toward the sky, studying the constellations as they rotated overhead. After some time passed, Loghain turned his head toward Lhiannon, but did not look at her directly.

"I must thank you," he said quietly. Lhiannon looked at him, confused. _First he threatens to separate my head from my neck, and then he thanks me_, she thought. She furrowed her brow. "Thank me for what?"

"You could have had me executed in front of my own daughter. Thank you for sparing her that sight." He gathered up his belongings and returned to his tent before Lhiannon could answer.

* * *

_I admit, I struggled with this chapter a bit. I didn't want Lhiannon and Loghain's first post Landsmeet conversation to be completely hostile, but I didn't want it all wine and roses either. I hope this is a fair compromise._

_Thank you again to everyone who has bookmarked, read, and reviewed the story. We're going to meet an 'old friend' soon...  
_


	4. Morrigan's Request

As the horizon began to flood with colors signaling the impending dawn, Lhiannon rested a pot on the fire to begin cooking the morning meal. Usually it consisted of porridge and whatever fruits they bought from the market or found while scouting the area for the campsite. This morning brought several pieces of fruit she had from their stay in Denerim. She finished adding the porridge to the simmering water and walked toward the tents to awaken the others. Most everyone had begun stirring and were easily roused. Oghren, however, was still snoring lustily in his tent. _By the Maker, he could sleep through the entire Blight_, Lhiannon thought. Of course, the dwarven ale he had consumed the night before did not help matters much. He seemed to have a never-ending supply of the vile brew. Lhiannon poked Oghren with her staff.

"Oghren! For the love of the Maker, would you get up?" Oghren snorted and mumbled something sleepily, something about the ancestors no doubt. His favorite curses included references to the ancestors; or tits and arses. Lhiannon turned her head and whistled softly for Tiberius, who happily bounded to her side. She held open the flap of the tent and motioned for the warhound to go inside. Tiberius rushed in, barking at Oghren and batting him with his large paws.

"By the tits of my ancestors! Get your sodding dog off me!" he roared, flailing his arms and scurrying off his bedroll. Thankfully, he had fallen asleep in his clothes; Lhiannon was grateful for that. A naked dwarf would have been a nasty surprise to behold.

Lhiannon laughed. "If you had woken up the first time, I wouldn't have had to send Tiberius in here. Let that be a lesson to you."

"You sound like a sodding, nagging wife," he mumbled to her, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

She whistled at Tiberius, who bounded out of the tent and ran off toward Loghain; he had just exited his tent and was watching the exchange warily. Tiberius seemed to be the only one willing to make friends with the newest Grey Warden at the moment.

"You'll miss breakfast if you don't get moving." She closed the flap of the tent before he could reply.

Soon after the meal, they were on the move again toward Lothering. The group was spread out a bit, never out of sight from one another in case trouble arose. Loghain generally stayed toward the middle of the pack. As they traveled over the next couple of days, he found himself contemplating his fellow Grey Warden. _She has to be half my age at bes_t, he thought. She was of average height, with straight brown hair she tied at the nape of her neck with a rawhide cord. Her eyes were dark brown, the black center barely perceptible from the color around it. He knew that she was a mage, but clearly there was more to her than that. She did not wear the traditional robes of a mage, but wore simple chain armor. That she bested him with both magic and a dagger at the Landsmeet disturbed him to some extent.

Loghain had remembered her vaguely at Ostagar; she was the new recruit that Duncan had brought in to camp, fresh from her Harrowing at the Circle of Magi. He had not spent much time dwelling on that, as he was busy with Cailan and his delusions of grandeur. He sighed, as he always did now when thinking of Cailan. What would Maric and Rowan say? He was sure that somewhere in the beyond, they hated him for what he did. He probably deserved it. Maker knows he would have to answer for it someday.

Loghain observed that everyone in this little band would, one by one, approach Lhiannon during the day for several minutes of quiet conversation. Maybe they found her easy to talk to. She seemed thoughtful enough, knowing when to speak up and when to hold her tongue. She appeared to have the sort of personality that drew people to her; even Morrigan got along with her, so that was saying something.

They had traveled for a short while further when the group decided to stop for a few moments to rest the horses and stretch their legs. Loghain looked up to see where Lhiannon was ahead of him, walking ahead of her horse and leading it to a nearby stream. This time she was alone, thank the Maker; it always seemed like _someone_ wanted her attention all the time. How ironic that he felt it was his turn now. With a gentle nudge to his horse, he quickly caught up to her and dismounted beside her, leading his own horse to the water. She turned to look at him with a curious expression.

"Loghain," she said cautiously.

"I've been thinking," he began, keeping his eyes on the water. "You doubtless consider me a monster; even more so since I survived that Joining ritual. You kept striking at me yet I refused to die decently."

She tossed him a perplexed glance and shook her head. "I don't think you are a monster, Loghain."

He turned and looked down at her; she thought he looked slightly amused at her answer. "You lie poorly, you know." He paused for a moment, turning back toward the water ahead of them. "It is kind of you to say however."

They reached the stream, allowing their horses to drink deeply. They stood there for a minute in silence, each apparently with more to say but either unsure how to say it or waiting for the other to continue. Lhiannon was absentmindedly stroking the neck of her horse. After a time, it was Loghain who broke the silence as he secured the reins of his horse to a nearby tree limb.

"Much has happened between us in the recent past. I think it's safe to say that both of us have tried to do what we could to eliminate the threat of the other. Nevertheless, we must find a way to settle things between us before we move forward." He paused, giving his words a moment to sink in. "So, what's it to be then?"

Lhiannon shrugged, tangling the reins of her horse next to his. "What's done is done. We're going to have to work together, Loghain. It's just that simple."

Loghain turned to face her again, an eyebrow raised in questioning or amusement; Lhiannon was not sure which. "Is that a punishment for me or for you?" She chuckled lightly and surprisingly Loghain did as well. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed her arm, startling Lhiannon. She took in a sharp breath, gasping. Sten took notice from nearby, reaching behind him for his great sword, but Lhiannon turned her head toward him, holding up a hand to signal that all was well. She turned back to Loghain and saw him looking at her closely, studying her with those disconcerting blue eyes of his.

"So, just like that we're to be allies then?" he asked sharply, snapping his fingers for emphasis. "After all that has happened between us? I don't know what sort of concession you want from me, _Warden_. I suppose my _word_ that we are allies will not satisfy you."

Lhiannon straightened her back and stood tall in front of him, her posture indignant. She refused to be intimidated. "We became allies the moment you survived the Joining. Even so, I need to _know_ that I can trust you, Loghain. You are correct; much has happened between us before now. Nonetheless, we are _both_ Grey Wardens with the same goal: end the Blight."

He waved his hand dismissively at her. "Words," he snorted derisively, "nothing I can say will prove that we are allies. My actions will either prove it themselves, or they won't." His eyes narrowed at her and he continued. "You did not spare my life at the Landsmeet by accident. I don't believe that the least bit. You have some sort of plan in mind." It was not a question.

She met his steely gaze with one of her own. _Don't let him intimidate you_, she thought to herself, _you know he's good at it_. "I am giving you a chance Loghain; I expect you to take it," she replied sharply, pointing her finger at him for emphasis.

Unexpectedly, Loghain grinned at her. "Fortunate for me then that I am a man accustomed to taking chances."

He released her arm, remaining at her side for a few minutes seemingly deep in thought as Lhiannon brushed her horse. It nickered softly. Lhiannon was certain that their conversation was not finished just yet, so she patiently waited for him to collect his thoughts. It gave her time to reflect on what just transpired. When Loghain spoke again, his voice sounded somewhat subdued and melancholy.

"This situation we find ourselves in—all of it—can truthfully be called my fault. I had done what I thought was best, but I am by no means perfect. Whether or not you can do any better to save Ferelden from this calamity remains to be seen. If it means anything to you, I hope that you _can_ do better than I have." He stopped again, looking straight ahead. Lhiannon stopped brushing her horse and turned to face him. His expression looked hard and he grimaced. Suddenly, he reached out and grasped her shoulder firmly and placed the fist of his free hand over his heart. He looked her dead in the eye and spoke to her with conviction.

"I don't know how much my word means to you, given our history. But if you can make this calamity end, then I shall follow you. _This I swear to you_."

Lhiannon blinked, surprised at his sudden oath. Soldiers and nobles, even former ones, usually did not give oaths lightly. She was impressed. Perhaps there was a shred of honor left in the man after all. "Then I am glad to have you, Loghain." She held out her hand.

He snorted, then shook it firmly. "We shall see how long _that_ lasts."

They gathered up the reins to their horses and walked side by side in silence back toward the road. Lhiannon thought back to her conversation with Anora at Howe's estate, how she claimed she was in danger. She seemed so honest about it. She looked at Loghain with a lopsided grin.

"May I ask you something?"

"As you wish," Loghain replied.

"Anora insisted she was in danger; she was so sincere about it. Would you have _really_ threatened her?"

The corner of Loghain's mouth twitched upward ever so slightly, "Anora has always had a flair for the dramatic. Were she not Queen, she would have been an excellent bard."

"But why would she fabricate such a story then? I bought it, you know."

Loghain chuckled, amused; it sounded genuine. "Anora is a politician through and through. She knows how to move people in any way she likes, like pieces on a game board. I've been a victim of it myself, many times."

"But why me then?"

Loghain chuckled again. "Was there anyone else in all of Ferelden that could have stood up to the Landsmeet?"

Lhiannon scoffed, "Probably not."

* * *

They were standing on the elevated roadway looking down at what was left of Lothering. There was very little. The stink of corruption, decay, and smoke in the air was so strong they could taste it. Most of the buildings were in complete ruins either by the fires that had raged through the town or by the destruction that could only have been done by ogres. Pieces of buildings were strewn about as if the ogres took them apart with their bare hands to get to the occupants inside.

Then there were the bodies. They were everywhere. Those that were not burned to shriveled husks appeared to have been pulled apart limb from limb. Others looked like the darkspawn had partially devoured them. Lhiannon's stomach was slowly rolling inside her and she fought to keep her recent meal in its place.

Loghain was astounded by the devastation wrought here. He had seen more than enough of what the darkspawn corruption had done to the Deep Roads—black tendrils reaching out in all directions and covering everything in its path. The stench seeped into the pores of one's skin and clothing and lingered there long after one was away from the corruption. Thankfully, what small breeze puffed by them was enough to lessen the stink. He could see the telltale signs of corruption on some of the remaining walls and the bridge covering the river. Most of the corruption had burned away in the fires, but some still remained. He did not know if it would spread now that the horde had moved on. They had been here recently, however, and he thought it best if they moved on as well.

"Lhiannon," he said cautiously, "we should not linger here long. The darkspawn have been here recently and could easily return." She nodded slowly, still taking in the destruction of Lothering. "I agree. I don't sense them, but that means little."

They followed the road out of Lothering and set up camp near where the ancient road to Ostagar joined it. They had decided to keep two people at a time on watch with the recent darkspawn activity in the area. Wood was gathered for a fire and Loghain and Sten went into the nearby forest to hunt for food. Lhiannon had just returned from a nearby steam with several full water skins when Morrigan appeared. She took a couple of the skins and helped Lhiannon carry them back to the camp.

"I have been studying the grimoire of Flemeth's that you brought from Kinloch Hold."

Lhiannon nodded at her, setting the water skins down by the fire and motioning Morrigan to sit on one of the nearby logs. "Yes, I've noticed you reading it quite a bit when we make camp. Have you learned much from it?"

Morrigan looked at her, an anxious expression on her face. Lhiannon had never seen Morrigan look quite like this before. Whatever she had discovered in the grimoire, it was not pleasant.

"No, not what I had hoped. I had hoped that it would teach me more of Flemeth's magic. 'Tis instead a book detailing how Flemeth has lived such a long life." She shuddered, involuntarily wrapping her arms around herself and turning toward the fire, rocking back and forth. Lhiannon leaned toward her and put her hand on Morrigan's arm. Morrigan jumped like a scared rabbit and looked at her with wide eyes.

"Morrigan," Lhiannon began softly, trying to soothe the mage's obviously frayed nerves. "What was it you learned? How does she do it?"

"She…she…raises a _daughter_, and when her body is ready to die, she possess her daughter's body and claims it for her own. The daughter's essence…dies…and Flemeth is essentially reborn." She shuddered. "I am to be next!"

"Oh Morrigan…"

Morrigan turned to fully face Lhiannon, snatching her hands in hers and pleading with her, eyes wide with terror. "Lhiannon, you must help me! You _have_ to help me."

"What is it you want me to do?"

Morrigan seemed to calm somewhat. "I _will not _let her take me. I need you to go to her hut…I cannot go with you…you have to kill her and find her _real_ grimoire…"

Lhiannon sat up with a start and stared at Morrigan with wide eyes. "_Kill Flemeth?_ Kill your _mother_? Wait, why _can't_ you go?"

"Because if I am there, she could immediately possess me, especially if she knows that I know what she's planning." She shook her head rapidly. "No, I cannot go with you. You have to kill her and find her _real_ grimoire. Anything else you find in her hut is yours; I care not about anything else. I can use the real grimoire to protect myself from her in the future…in case she does survive. She's…not human…so anything is possible."

Lhiannon thought about it for a moment. The Korcari Wilds were not too terribly far away and if Flemeth was going to be a threat to Morrigan, she was a threat to them all. They needed fewer enemies for the upcoming battle with the archdemon, not more. Aside from her nasty attitude, Morrigan was an extremely competent mage; they would be significantly weakened if Flemeth destroyed her. She looked at Morrigan and curtly nodded.

"All right Morrigan. I'll see what can be done."

"Thank you my friend," she sighed gratefully. "The sooner 'tis done, the sooner my mind can be at ease." With that, Morrigan turned and went to her own small campsite, grinning in both relief and triumph.

Lhiannon watched her go with a bewildered look. She had never seen Morrigan look this…desperate…before. What Morrigan must be going through was beyond her imagining. It had certainly seemed like Morrigan hated the only woman she knew as her mother, but Lhiannon believed that somewhere inside the acerbic mage, Morrigan did love Flemeth like any little girl would love their mother. The realization that Flemeth was using her as an incubator had to shake Morrigan to her core.

Lhiannon had stacked some wood for a fire in preparation for Sten and Loghain's eventual return from their hunt. After the wood was stacked to her satisfaction and a number of rocks placed around the fire pit, Lhiannon held her hand toward the pile and murmured a spell to create a ball of flame. The flame danced from her hand to the wood and began to burn merrily.

* * *

Sten and Loghain returned a short while later with a number of rabbits as their bounty. They were quickly skinned and put on spits to roast over the flames and before long the enticing smell of roasted rabbit began to fill the campsite. Lhiannon's stomach rumbled appreciatively. While dinner was cooking, she decided to take her armor down to the nearby stream and clean it; it was absolutely filthy. It stank of the darkspawn corruption and that was something she did not want assailing her nostrils any longer than necessary. As she neared the stream, she could hear someone else there—as she approached she could see that it was Loghain. He had removed his heavy plate armor and was scrubbing it clean with a rag. He looked up as he watched her approach and nodded.

"Lhiannon," he greeted her evenly.

"Loghain."

They both cleaned their armor in silence. She thought about what Morrigan asked of her as she scrubbed between the links of her armor. Would Flemeth try to possess Morrigan before they turned back the Blight? Morrigan was a powerful mage and her shape shifting abilities were unique among them. Her loss would be great indeed. Perhaps Loghain could give her some counsel; he wanted to show that he was trustworthy? Here was his opportunity.

"Loghain, you have been to the Korcari Wilds before, yes?"

"Yes," he said evenly.

Lhiannon nodded. "We have business there."

Loghain said nothing as he continued to clean his armor. Lhiannon waited a moment to see if he would say anything. She was about to continue when he finally spoke. "What sort of business?"

"Morrigan's mother lives there. She is an apostate mage and we…"

Loghain stopped cleaning his armor and turned to look at Lhiannon. "Morrigan's mother is an apostate living in the Wilds?" He gave her a guarded, yet calculating look. "Is she very old?"

Lhiannon looked at him with a degree of surprise. "She looks it. The Chasind call her 'The Witch of the Wilds'."

"Maker's breath," Loghain swore as he shook his head in disbelief. "It _must_ be her…"

"You know of Flemeth?"

He scoffed derisively. "Is that what she calls herself? Yes, I have met her once. I can see now where Morrigan gets her charming personality."

Now Lhiannon was curious. When could Loghain have crossed paths with Flemeth? "If you don't mind me asking, how did you encounter her?"

Loghain sat back and set his armor aside, gathering his thoughts for a moment. "Maric and I had just met. I had taken him to the camp that my father was in charge of. The usurper's men had been chasing Maric after they killed Queen Moira. We hadn't known at first that Maric was the prince; I had only found out right before the usurper's men attacked our camp." Loghain's eyes became far away. He paused, seemingly lost in thought.

"Maric and I ran for our lives after the usurper attacked. We ended up in the Wilds and were eventually captured by a band of Dalish elves. They took us to this 'Woman of Many Years'. It wasn't a pleasant meeting. She had taken Maric into her hut and spoke to him for several hours, making him promise never to speak of what they discussed. And he did not, save for one thing. The witch told him a Blight was coming. He took it very seriously. I didn't believe her; that was something any idiot soothsayer could have said." He paused for a moment, giving a small sigh. "I suppose she was right about the Blight after all however."

"Morrigan wants us to kill her."

Loghain looked at her, his brows raised with curiosity. Lhiannon explained what Morrigan had told her earlier. He listened thoughtfully, nodding and rubbing his chin on occasion. When Lhiannon was finished she caught his eye with her own and tilted her head questioningly.

"So, what say you?" she asked.

"Are you certain such a delay is necessary?"

Lhiannon thought about it for a moment before answering. "Morrigan is a competent mage, her acerbic attitude aside. If we lost her, it would be a serious blow to our chances against the Blight."

Loghain paused for a moment, looking at the water in the stream trickling by. "As much as I don't care for the witch, I happen to agree." He turned to look at Lhiannon, a corner of his mouth curved slightly upward in amusement. There was a dangerous glimmer in his eyes that she had never seen before. She found herself smirking along with him.

"I think, perhaps, it is time to pay her a visit," he said, his voice dark and malevolent. "She has much to answer for."

* * *

_Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to read/review/bookmark Lhiannon's story! Now we know what little 'friend' Lhiannon is going to visit._

_And Tiberius' name? Not from the Roman Emperor Tiberius. I picked it from one James Tiberius Kirk. Yes, I'm a Trekkie as well (just of the shows; I DO NOT dress in costume!). :)  
_


	5. The Past Resonates Forward

As they set out toward Flemeth's hut, Lhiannon noticed that her uneasiness grew the closer they came to Ostagar, its remains not far away. She and Alistair had returned to the ruins before they went to Denerim for the Landsmeet. It was not something they had wanted to do, but felt they _had_ to do. Ostagar drew them like moths to light. Darkspawn were crawling through the ruins, desecrating everything they touched. They had found all the pieces of King Cailan's armor among the creatures; Alistair had it now, as he should. They had also found Cailan himself, strung up on the ruins of the bridge connecting the old camp to the Tower of Ishal. He had been putrefying in the sun for all the darkspawn to see. They had cut him down and burned him on a pyre, as befitting a king. Alistair had even removed some of the ashes. He may not have known his brother well, but he still felt Cailan's loss as King.

They had also found some correspondence in the ruins that Lhiannon felt could have pushed Loghain into some of the actions he had taken. She wondered if he knew about it. _He must have, _she thought, _how else could some of the recent events be explained?_ Could they have been the source his erratic behavior? Arl Eamon had told her and Alistair that Loghain was not acting like himself. Eamon had said he had known Loghain for a long time and seizing power and ambition was not like him.

When they made camp Lhiannon noticed that both Loghain and Wynne looked distracted and irritable. If Ostagar's proximity was bothering Lhiannon, she imagined that it was affecting them as well. After they had eaten the evening meal, she noticed Loghain walk off toward a small lake that was nearby. That was not unusual; he would generally clean his armor at camp or would sit by the lake in quiet contemplation. A short while later, Lhiannon heard voices coming from near the lake, male and female. Loud voices. The others had heard it too. With a wave of her hand, she bid them to stay behind and got up to move toward the lake. As she got closer, she could hear the sounds of intense arguing. She came through a small tree line to see Wynne and Loghain standing near the shore of the lake, nearly nose to nose.

Wynne was shouting at Loghain, her cheeks reddened in anger. "I was lucky to escape Ostagar with my life after you decided to quit the field!"

"Oh, so you did not rush to the King's rescue either? Then I am not the only one that left him to die!" Loghain sounded furious, fists balled at his sides.

"I wasn't a general at the head of an army," Wynne pointed at him accusingly. "I could never have reached him in time."

Loghain moved closer to Wynne and Lhiannon could see the red anger on his face as well. "And I was no mage with magic to break the darkspawn ranks! But maybe you think the army and I should have tried anyway. No doubt the lives of mere soldiers mean little in the eyes of the Circle."

"And what of the soldiers that died with King Cailan? Did their lives mean nothing to you? Were they just pawns in whatever game you were playing?" she spat back at him.

Loghain lowered his voice, but the venom in it did not abate. "You think so, do you? I _knew_ their names. I _knew_ their families. I do not know how you _mages_ determine the value of things, but I know _exactly_ how much was lost that day. Cailan was beyond saving; all he could think about was glorious battle. How he and a mere handful of Grey Wardens could take on an entire _army _of darkspawn. I warned him off the front lines, but he refused to listen. The darkspawn would have had him or had us all. I _know_ how much we lost that day, woman, regardless of what you think you know."

Lhiannon quickly ran over and put herself between them, pushing each of them away from the other. They had looked about to come to blows. Loghain's fists were visibly shaking and she could sense magical energies around Wynne. Lhiannon found that had the situation not been as highly charged, she would have laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. She looked to each of them in turn as she spoke.

"That is enough between the two of you," she said sharply. "We can't change the past and we need to work together to defeat the darkspawn. Neither of you help our cause by dredging up such things."

Wynne looked at Lhiannon, flabbergasted. "I can't believe you're defending _him_. After everything he has done."

"I am not defending anyone. What I'm doing is trying to tell you that arguing amongst us suits no purpose other than to cause division. We need to be fighting the darkspawn, not each other. So act like the adults you are and stop squabbling like children!"

Wynne was not to be moved. With a final glare at Loghain, she turned on her heel and walked back toward the camp. Loghain took a step back from Lhiannon's hand and looked at her quizzically, the anger still clearly evident on his face.

"Don't look at me like that Loghain." Lhiannon snapped at him. "I don't agree with many of the decisions you made recently, but I can understand where some of your anger with King Cailan came from."

"Do you?" he sneered at her. "How can _you_ possibly know?"

Lhiannon motioned for him to remain where he was. She sighed; it was an exasperated sound. "Hold here a moment, Loghain. I'll show you." She turned to head for the camp.

Loghain paced along the water's edge, his anger creating a nervous energy that he had to try to burn off. Wynne. That sanctimonious mage, how dare she question him when she did not know all the facts. The suggestion that he did not care about his soldiers made him even angrier. Ever since he became a commander in the rebel army, he always felt profoundly responsible for the lives of his men. They were not to be taken lightly, thrown away in a wasted effort; Ostagar would have been a wasted effort. Soldiers had people who depended on them too, and Loghain would do anything to make sure his soldiers returned to those people. It was a grave insult indeed to accuse him of taking their lives lightly.

Lhiannon returned several minutes later with a satchel in her hand. She approached Loghain and opened it, handing him several pieces of parchment with the broken wax seals still attached. One had the seal of the Arl of Redcliffe; the other two had Orlesian seals on them. She was not entirely sure she should be sharing them, as it was possible they would pour more fuel on the fire.

"We found these at the ruins of Ostagar. I'm not completely certain I should share these, but they do pertain to recent events. However, you are Anora's father, and you certainly have a right to know what is in them if you don't know already." She held the letters out to Loghain, who looked at them guardedly. He could sense her apprehension. He reached a hand out to take them, scowling as he recognized the Orlesian seals. He slowly opened them and began to read. He read them twice, the expression on his face stony.

"That cheating bastard," Loghain said through gritted teeth, his voice both deadly and repulsed. He looked at Lhiannon, his finger pointing at the letter accusingly. "Do you see how the Empress speaks to Cailan in a familiar tone? Like they were already rutting together and ready to cast Anora aside? As if Anora wasn't already married to Cailan? It certainly sounds like he was ready to marry that bitch Celene. And what would Ferelden have then? A foolish king who could prance about calling himself an Emperor!

"And Eamon to have been involved! I had heard rumors that he brought it up to Cailan; that he should set Anora aside because she hadn't given him an heir yet. Eamon automatically assumed that the fault was with Anora. I heard Cailan had fought bitterly with Eamon at first, but perhaps Eamon's constant needling wore Cailan down. Eamon, then, is just as culpable!"

Loghain handed the papers back to Lhiannon as if he had touched something foul and then began pacing angrily again. She tucked the papers back into her pack. She wanted to say something to him, but also wanted to be cautious as to how she said it. Right now, he was like a poisonous viper; he was capable of striking at anything. She steeled herself for his spite, then spoke.

"I can understand your anger, Loghain."

Loghain stopped pacing and whirled around to face her, his eyes still flashing with fury. "You _understand_?" he started, the sarcasm plain in his voice. "And how could you possibly _understand_? _You_ don't have a child. _You_ did not build a nation from the ground up with your closest friends only to see their son nearly throw it all away!"

Lhiannon kept her voice calm and soothing, trying to bring his anger down. "I may not have a child, but I know you must have felt angry at King Cailan. You felt he betrayed Anora. She's your _child_; as her father you would do anything to protect her. Even kill if you had to."

Loghain stared at her, eyes narrowed, not sure of what to say. Before he could say anything, Lhiannon continued. "And you must have felt that everything you, King Maric, and Queen Rowan worked for would crumble to dust if Cailan married Celene, with Ferelden and Orlais becoming one. All the fighting, the sacrifices, would have meant nothing. You were concerned that Cailan would have destroyed everything the rebellion fought for."

Loghain glared at her, surprised and wary, unsure if she truly could understand how Cailan's betrayal affected him or if she was just placating him with talk.

"But even though I can understand your anger, Loghain," Lhiannon began again, her voice cautious, "your anger blinded you and made you less objective, which lead to poor decisions."

Loghain rushed up to her, standing so close to her face Lhiannon could feel his breath on her cheeks. He loomed over her, the anger coming off him in palpable waves. "So what was I to do then, just _let_ Cailan brush Anora aside for that _fucking bitch_? _Let _Cailan open his arms to Orlais and have them walk right in? And you're right; Cailan would have destroyed _everything_ we fought for. Ferelden would have become part of Orlais without a sword being raised. I _would not_ let that happen. Lest you forget, Celene is Florian's _spawn_ and she wound not deign to rule her new empire from Denerim." Loghain paused and Lhiannon could see the cold fury in his eyes, his voice rising with each word he spoke until he was nearly shouting at her. "So yes, my anger did influence my judgment because _it was right_." He turned and walked off several paces.

"And did your righteous anger influence the decision to have Anora held captive?" Lhiannon began, feeling her own irritation beginning to come to the surface. "At Howe's estate no less? You _knew_ Howe was a lunatic and you put _your own daughter_ in danger by leaving her with him! He tortured nobles and commoners for his own twisted pleasure. Is _that_ something a rational father does? Allowing that man within shouting distance of the Queen?"

Lhiannon hit a nerve. Loghain's face filled with rage, his fists visibly shaking at his sides once again. He rushed toward her, looming over her. Lhiannon thought for a brief moment that he would strike her and she nearly challenged him to try. "_How dare you_ suggest I put Anora in danger!" he snarled at her. "Everything I have done was to protect her _and_ Ferelden. You know _nothing_, _Warden_. Get out of my sight."

* * *

Loghain sat alone on a rock outcropping at the shore of the lake not long after. He could feel his body shaking in anger after the argument with that sanctimonious mage Wynne. Lhiannon's theories about his anger and behavior leading up to the Landsmeet were no better. Lhiannon _dared_ to think that he would put his own daughter in danger just to seize the throne for himself? That would make him no better than the bloody Orlesians. Everything he had done since before Cailan's death was to protect the crown and Ferelden from the Orlesians and the Blight, in that order. He had worked too hard and sacrificed too much over the years to ensure Ferelden remained strong and independent. If protecting Ferelden required that he commit acts that many would consider unsavory, then so be it. He would do them again and gladly, no matter how they ate at his conscience.

Loghain had experience with Orlesians in the flesh; they were calculating and brutal, seeking to better their own positions by trampling on the weak or less fortunate. While Loghain could see the benefit in weakening the positions of rivals, the Orlesian "game" was beyond even his scruples. The darkspawn he had only dealt with once before; he had not been convinced that what they were seeing on the surface now was a true Blight. The Orlesians, both those Cailan invited to Ferelden and Orlesians in general, unnerved him far more that the darkspawn.

Loghain's thoughts turned to Arl Howe and Anora. He had known Rendon Howe a long time. If Loghain had few friends, Howe had far fewer. Bryce Cousland was a friend of Howe's and while Loghain considered Howe an acquaintance, the term "friends" was likely stretching the truth. Howe was a man that could get things done, especially the things that most nobles would have turned their noses up at. That was the main reason Loghain kept Howe among his acquaintances; they were more alike than different in that respect.

Loghain had suspected for some time that Howe had a dark side. Rumors had been circulating in Denerim of late that Howe enjoyed inviting rivals to his estate for an evening of entertainment only to have them end up in his torture chambers. The rumors also said that Howe himself took part in most of the tortures. No one was exempt from his dark side, not even women.

His thoughts stopped and Loghain suddenly came to a realization. What if having Anora held at Howe's estate _was_ a mistake? Would he have truly resorted to torturing _her_ if the situation in Denerim changed? If somehow Loghain had begun to listen to the Grey Wardens about the Blight and threw in his lot with them, would Howe have truly sunk that low? The answer, when it came, caused a pit to form in his stomach.

_Yes. _

Howe very well could have sunk that low. Guilt and revulsion washed over Loghain in a palpable wave. Leaving Anora with him could have had disastrous consequences, had the situation changed at all. With Anora captive and the Couslands all but wiped out, the only thing standing between Howe and the throne would have been the regent Loghain himself. At that point, Howe could have used Anora for ransom, the price being the throne itself. Running his hands through his hair in exasperation, Loghain realized that Lhiannon was right; leaving Anora with someone like Howe was not something a rational father did.

Perhaps Lhiannon deserved an apology. The thought ranked him; admitting mistakes did not come easily to Loghain and the assault to his pride was great indeed.

* * *

Lhiannon sat near the fire, Zevran at her side doing his vulgar best to make her smile. As usual, he could. He was telling one naughty limerick and joke after another and she laughed until her sides began to ache and the tears ran down her cheeks in force. She thought she would need to cast a healing spell to ease the pain in her aching ribs. This, of course, set Zevran to even higher levels of vulgarity. He had such a dirty little mind.

Lhiannon had been wiping tears off her face from the laughter when she heard a polite clearing of the throat from behind her. She turned and immediately stopped laughing when she saw it was Loghain behind her, looking for her attention.

"Lhiannon," he began evenly, "may I speak with you privately for a moment?"

Zevran looked at Lhiannon, one eyebrow raised as if to ask if she would be all right alone with him. She held up her hand to show that all was well, then stood. Loghain indicated with his hand a small grouping of trees at the opposite side of the camp and they began to walk toward them. When they had moved out of sight and earshot of the camp, Lhiannon turned to Loghain, a hard expression on her face and her arms folded across her chest.

"What is it you want, Loghain?" She made no attempt to hide the chill in her voice. "Here to make more snide comments?"

He looked at her, his face neutral. After a moment composing his thoughts, he took a deep breath and began. "Since the Joining, you have treated me with kindness and respect. There are few who would have been able to do so in your place. I fear that I may not have reciprocated to you in kind, and for that, I apologize."

Lhiannon could not stop the astonished expression she knew came across on her face. She had been prepared for more of his anger and venom; an apology was the last thing she expected.

"You are right," he continued, "we need to focus on fighting the darkspawn, not each other. You have my word that it shall not happen again."

Lhiannon ran a hand through her hair, not quite believing what she was hearing. She felt no sense of deception from him. He had certainly caught her off guard. "I accept your apology, Loghain. Thank you. But I don't want you to think that you should hold back because you want to avoid a confrontation. I want to hear your thoughts; I may not be fond of them, but I want to hear them."

"Be assured that I shall tell you, though you may indeed not like some of them."

She scoffed, "That's probably true."

He paused again and Lhiannon sensed that there was more he wanted to say. She waited patiently while he mulled over his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

"May I ask a question?" she asked tentatively.

Loghain sighed wearily. "As you wish."

"What made you reconsider what I said?"

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. He then ran his hands down his face and took a deep breath, his voice low and grave. "Anora. I believe I may have put her in danger by leaving her with Howe."

Lhiannon cautiously approached Loghain and put a hand on his forearm. Her touch was light and her hand warm; it was likely meant to offer comfort or understanding. He did not need to be coddled like a child and wanted to pull away from this invasion of his personal space.

"What's done is done. We can't dwell on the past; it doesn't help our cause. We can only move forward. I'm willing to do that if you are."

Loghain nodded, backing away from her hand and breaking the invasive contact. "I thank you."

Lhiannon nodded in return. "Come, Loghain. Let's head back to camp. You're due to start watch soon."

* * *

_In DA:O/Return to Ostagar, I loved how Wynne and Loghain bickered amongst themselves the whole time and I wanted to include some of that here. It's also part of my Grey Wardens' journey to find some common ground. I think I may post one more chapter today...I promised you Flemeth after all!_

_Thanks to all who are following along and reviewing. I appreciate it a great deal!  
_


	6. Reacquainted

Several days had passed since they left Lothering and they eventually found themselves near the place Morrigan had once called home. As they neared Flemeth's hut, Morrigan became more nervous and agitated. Lhiannon could not blame her; coming this close to Flemeth—knowing now what Flemeth's plans were—would put her on edge too. They set up camp several hours walk from the hut. Morrigan would go no further and actually felt they were too close already, but she acquiesced.

Lhiannon and Loghain had discussed who should go with them to visit Flemeth. Since they had both agreed to put the past behind them and move forward, they each found the other easier to work with. The wariness between the two of them began to fade as they realized that they both had Ferelden's best interests at heart. They still did not agree on everything, but knowing they both had the same goal made compromise easier to achieve.

Recently, Lhiannon had found herself turning to Loghain often for his tactical advice. He was far more experienced in battle than any of them, naturally, so she found in him a wealth of information. There was no talking Loghain out of staying behind while Flemeth was dealt with; he was going to go with her to Flemeth's hut and stubbornly refused to hear otherwise. Whatever had transpired between Flemeth and Loghain years before, he seemed anxious to go and exact some sort of revenge. They took Wynne along, just in case the abomination that was part of Flemeth decided to put up a fight. Her protective spells would help them in case the situation deteriorated that far, which Lhiannon felt was all but inevitable. They also agreed to take Sten along as more muscle. Loghain had not gone into all the details with Lhiannon when he told her about the last time he was here, but simply insisted that more brute force would be better than less. Something about the way Loghain had said that made Lhiannon uneasy, so she asked Sten come along; he was happy to oblige.

Leaving the camp behind, they made their way through the Wilds to Flemeth's hut, the trees and swamps becoming thicker and more numerous the farther they progressed. The very air seemed impossibly oppressive, like invisible hands pushing against their skin from all sides. Lhiannon was brought back to when she first traveled through the Wilds, gathering the darkspawn blood to be used in her Joining. She remembered her first encounter with a darkspawn; it had frightened her so badly that she had trouble sleeping for days and even when she did sleep, the nightmares constantly ravaged her mind. As they traveled deeper into the Wilds, Lhiannon could sense Loghain's growing unease through the taint.

"Loghain? What troubles you?"

"It's nothing," he replied tersely.

Lhiannon noticed that Loghain was carefully watching the trees around him, looking at several species and guiding their party away from trees that looked otherwise innocuous. His hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword. "Be wary of the trees," he finally murmured quietly several minutes later. Lhiannon was puzzled, but nodded her understanding. There must be sylvans nearby, not the most encouraging thought. She could be chanting a lot of fire spells then. They continued their journey and it was not long before they spotted a lazy column of smoke rising in the distance, signaling to them that the appearance of the hut was imminent.

To no one's surprise, Flemeth met them in the doorway of her hut when they arrived. She appraised the group serenely as they approached, munching on an apple as her eyes fell upon them one by one in obvious appraisal. She no doubt noticed that their hands were near their weapons. If that concerned her, she gave no outward sign.

"Ah, and here you return," she addressed Lhiannon, a sly grin crossing her face. "I wondered if you would be coming back to visit me. I see you've brought some new friends with you. I do hope Morrigan is well." She took one last bite from her apple, tossing the core into the brush surrounding her hut. The branches moved ominously as something took interest in the discarded morsel.

Flemeth walked out from the doorway, assessing each member of the group in front of her in turn. She had not paid much attention to Sten and Wynne, giving them little more than a curious glance, but stopped in front of Loghain and studied him intently. After a moment, a slow smile began to spread across her ancient face and a raspy chuckling came from her throat. The sound sent shivers down Lhiannon's spine. Loghain had kept his face stony and unmoving, but Lhiannon could sense the taint roiling within him.

"Now _you_ I remember," she said, pointing a finger at him. "You look much older now though. Much has happened in the years since you were last here; I can see it all written in the lines on your face. I wouldn't have thought _you_ would come visit me again. I do hope you've learned some manners since the last time you were here." Flemeth guffawed wildly. "You were so _rude _as a younger man."

There was a rustling sound from behind them. Loghain saw out of the corner of his eye that the trees were moving ominously and he could hear Flemeth chuckling quietly. He certainly did not want a repeat of that experience from the last time he was here. Being strung up within the trees once was one time too many as far as he was concerned. The urge to reach out and snap her neck was so strong it nearly overpowered him. He looked Flemeth directly in her rheumy eyes and answered as calmly as he could. "You would hardly think so, madam."

Flemeth shook her head sadly, the trees moving back into place. "Oh? That's too bad. Some people never learn." She turned her back and took several steps away from him. "I told the King that a Blight would come, and so it came to pass." She turned around and looked at Loghain again, a knowing grin crossing her ancient face. "I also said you would betray him, each time worse than the last. You do remember that, don't you?"

Loghain remembered all too well the words she spoke to Maric as they stood outside her filthy hut those many years ago. "Maric was my friend and my King," Loghain growled at her, the grip on his sword tightening.

"And what does that mean? That you could not or would not betray him because he was such? That is all the more reason for you to have done exactly that," Flemeth said, her mouth turning upward in a grin and she scoffed laughingly. "And what of King Cailan? Does that not count as betrayal against King Maric? Betrayal of the worst kind?" Lhiannon saw Loghain's face begin to color, the depth of his anger so great she did not need the taint to sense it.

Flemeth turned back toward Lhiannon, pointedly ignoring Loghain. "So Morrigan has you dancing to her tune now, does she? She does play some enchanting music, yes?"

Lhiannon regarded her evenly, her voice firm. "We know your little secret, Flemeth."

Flemeth laughed malevolently. "Really? Which secret would that be? I have so many; it's hard to keep them all straight. What sort of plot has she conjured up this time?"

"Morrigan sent us here to destroy you and with good reason."

Flemeth laughed again as if she had heard an amusing joke, her voice taking on a strange timbre. "My dear, there are many, many reasons to kill Flemeth; many more than you could ever know. More than the stars in the sky." She began to slowly pace back and forth in front of the group, gathering her thoughts. The air around them began to feel stifling and heavy. Lhiannon began to feel uneasy; there was great magic here, like a vortex of energy beginning to slowly swirl around them.

"If I had to venture a guess, Morrigan has discovered something. Something so disturbing to her that it requires her to defend herself, yes?" Flemeth slowly shook her head back and forth as if not quite believing herself. The magical feel to the air was increasing and by this point even Loghain and Sten, who had no magical aptitude, began to feel the power growing. Loghain's eyes shifted warily from side to side, the hair on his neck beginning to stand on end as he watched for approaching danger.

"It is an old tale, one that Flemeth has heard before and even told herself from time to time." She stopped directly in front of Lhiannon, her eyes boring into Lhiannon's with bright malevolence.

"But let us not waste any more time and come to the end of the story. Do you slay the old witch as Morrigan would demand of you? Or do you decide that this tale should have a different ending?"

Lhiannon looked at her evenly, the determination set in her eyes and body. She would not allow this, _thing_, to threaten them. She began to call upon her own magical power.

"We need Morrigan. Period. I will not allow you to threaten her."

Flemeth held up a finger as if an idea crossed her mind. "Ah, but there is power in both choice and lies. I shall give you one of each. Morrigan wishes to have my true grimoire? Fine; to the victor go the spoils. Take it to her and tell her I am dead."

"Absolutely not," Lhiannon spat.

Flemeth's eyes narrowed. "So then, what shall it be?" The feel of magic in the air was now so heavy that is was almost palpable. Lhiannon raised her staff and the crystal at the tip began to pulsate with power. The others drew their weapons as well.

It was Loghain who answered, stepping toward Flemeth menacingly. He had waited a long, long time for this moment.

"You die."

Flemeth walked around the group toward a clearing not far from the hut, the eyes of the others following her warily. When she spoke again, her voice sounded deeper and more resonant with the power of the demon within her. A rustling sound could be heard as the magical power they felt began to coalesce around Flemeth like a cocoon.

"This is a dance that Flemeth has done before. Let's see if she remembers the steps, shall we? You will earn what you wish to take or you shall perish. It will be no other way." With a wave of her hand and a flash of light, a high dragon stood where Flemeth was an instant before. It roared a challenge at them.

"Maker's breath!" Lhiannon breathed, stepping backward almost involuntarily.

"Spread out," Loghain barked to the others. "Don't stand together!"

Sten and Loghain began to move around the dragon in opposite directions, hoping to flank her. Wynne scrambled out of the way and began to cast protective spells. Lhiannon moved off to a small hill slightly above the group and raised her staff above her head. She began to cast a blizzard spell and aimed it at the dragon. It roared in fury as the ice and snow began to pelt its hide and it turned to look at Lhiannon menacingly.

A subtle glow settled onto Sten and Loghain as Wynne completed a spell guarding against fire. She immediately began to chant a healing spell and prepared to send it out to whoever needed it first.

Sten and Loghain had managed to flank the beast, slashing its hide with their swords. Lhiannon had temporarily enchanted their weapons with ice and the dragon roared in pain whenever a blade sank into its flesh. It would turn to bite at the warriors, who spent as much time dodging its many teeth as they did actively attacking. With a sudden movement, its tail slashed out from behind it, knocking Loghain off his feet and away from the beast. The dragon turned to regard Sten, who was moving away from the beast's head, his great sword held in front of him and challenging the beast in the Qunari tongue. Loghain had regained his feet and came close to the dragon, sinking his sword up to the hilt into the base of its neck.

The dragon reared up on its hind legs, Loghain barely able to keep his hand on the hilt of his sword. The dragon's motion forced the blade out of its hide and Loghain backed away to avoid being stepped on when the dragon landed on all fours again. The dragon turned its head and looked down at Loghain, narrowing its eyes at the warrior. With a movement so quick the group barely had time to register it, the dragon reached down and snatched Loghain up in its maw and squeezed, shaking its head from side to side. Loghain unleashed a primal scream of terror and pain, the sound of metal shrieking and bones crunching loudly in his ears.

"_Loghain!_" Lhiannon screamed in panic, her concentration broken and the blizzard spell petering out. With a whip of its head, the dragon tossed Loghain from its mouth like a toy. He landed not far from Lhiannon, bounced once on the ground, and was still. The dragon then turned its attention to Sten and began to approach him menacingly.

Lhiannon rushed over to Loghain. He was writhing on the ground in terrible pain, blood oozing from both his nose and mouth and eyes rolling back in his head. His armor has been pierced in several places and she could see bright blood seeping through the holes. She quickly chanted a healing spell, but knew that his wounds were far beyond her abilities. She looked up, searching frantically for Wynne.

"Wynne," she shouted, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "To me! Loghain is hurt!" Wynne ran over to where Loghain lay, putting her hands on him and chanting a spell.

"Get him on his feet," Lhiannon commanded, moving to place herself between the dragon and where Wynne was tending to Loghain. The dragon had kicked Sten out of the way and turned to face Lhiannon, its eyes blazing. It roared at her, daring her to confront it. Fear washed over Lhiannon in a wave, causing a cold sweat to break out on her skin and leave it feeling clammy. She forced the fear down and stared up at the beast, raising her staff threateningly.

"You shall not touch them," she growled at the dragon, beginning to chant another blizzard spell.

With a great hissing sound, the dragon began to fill its lungs and Lhiannon nearly froze. It was going to breathe fire all over them. She continued to chant the blizzard spell with a more urgent pace, moving backward to stand closer to Wynne and Loghain. She was aiming the spell in front of where she stood. She hoped that it would be enough to cover the three of them until Sten could get back on his feet and draw the dragon's attention away.

With a roar, the dragon began to breathe fire at Lhiannon as she cast the spell in front of her. Waves of fire spread all around her but the spell was able to keep the flames away from herself and the others behind her. The air around them heated rapidly and threatened to bake them alive. With a groan of effort, Lhiannon turned her head slightly to regard Wynne.

"How is your mana?" she shouted at the mage. Wynne had to shout back at her over the roar of the fire. "It's low, but Loghain is healing."

"Do you have any lyrium flasks?"

"Yes," Wynne shouted back.

The dragon had expended its breath and began to draw in a second one. Lhiannon felt the fear beginning to sink into her stomach. Her own mana was running low and she was not sure how long she would be able to keep casting. She reached into her pouch, found a lyrium flask and quickly drank it down. She tossed the bottle aside and turned her head to Wynne. She could see Wynne helping Loghain to his feet. He looked shaky, pale, and nowhere near completely healed. Lhiannon watched a subtle glow envelop Loghain as Wynne administered another healing spell.

"Take as much lyrium as you can right away. I'll need to be healed soon."

Wynne looked at her, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"_Just do it_!" Lhiannon roared. She chanted the blizzard spell again as the dragon let loose with another volley of fire. She could feel her mana depleting rapidly and hoped that the fire would stop before her spell gave out. The fire stopped abruptly and Lhiannon could see Sten back on his feet. He was slashing the dragon in the side, drawing its attention toward him with his blade and war cries.

_This isn't working_, Lhiannon thought. Flemeth would easily wear them down in moments and then it would be finished. There was only one other thing she could do. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at Wynne. "I'm sorry," she told the mage. Loghain, now more steady on his feet, was looking at her, puzzled.

* * *

_It's two-for-one day today! The reason for two chapters today is that it's "Girls Weekend" this weekend...I may not be able to post new chapters for a few days. We'll see what happens though. :)  
_

_As always, THANK YOU to everyone who is following along. It's very encouraging and keeps me wanting to do more. _


	7. The Dark Power

The dragon was snapping at Sten repeatedly, the large warrior swinging his great sword wildly at the beast in an effort to both fight it off and draw its attention away from the others. Sweat and blood ran down his face in rivers. His breathing was becoming ragged from the exertion and it would only be a matter of time before the dragon struck a critical blow.

Loghain stood unsteadily on his feet, feeling like dozens of daggers were cutting and plunging into his flesh. His head spun madly and it took all his concentration to keep his eyes focused on any one thing. He could feel the gentle warmth of the healing magic Wynne was casting at him. The pain in his body diminished somewhat, but Loghain knew that he was still seriously injured and that pain would likely be his companion for some time to come. He looked over to where Lhiannon stood nearby, her jaw set and a determined look on her face.

Lhiannon took her staff and placed it between her teeth. She drew her dagger and wrapped her other hand around the blade, quickly drawing it out and opening a large wound. She hissed in pain and drew the blade across her palm a second time. With the blood flowing freely, she put her dagger back into its sheath and took the staff from her mouth. Wiping the blood on the crystal at the top of the staff, she began to chant. Dark red power began to pulsate from the end of her staff and she aimed it at Flemeth. The spell raced toward the dragon and hit it full on. The beast screamed in pain as it tried to bite at the source of its agony.

Lhiannon's strength began to rapidly weaken as the blood was seemingly pulled out of her hand to fuel the spell. She felt the tickle of healing magic and knew that Wynne was trying to keep her on her feet. From the corner of her eye Lhiannon saw a silver flash as Loghain painfully lurched toward the dragon. He reached the beast and sank his sword into its neck and pulled, opening a wide gap. Sten, on the other side of the dragon, was also opening a large wound on the neck. Blood poured from the openings and landed on the frozen ground, sending up tendrils of steam around the warriors and filling the air with a harsh, coppery smell.

The beast's strength finally began to falter under the onslaught of steel and blood magic. Lhiannon had switched back to a blizzard spell and was pelting the dragon all along its body with ice and snow until it began to accumulate on the weakening beast. The dragon's head finally sank toward the ground and with a defiant war cry, Sten plunged his great sword through the beast's eye and skull, the hilt landing on the flesh with a wet thud. The great dragon's head crashed to the ground, the body trembling once before it became still.

Loghain sank to his knees where he stood, exhausted and still feeling the effects of his mauling by the dragon. Wynne hurried over to him to check on his remaining injuries, giving Lhiannon an ugly grimace as she passed.

Sten stood where he was next to the dragon, his large body shaking with exertion and the aftereffects of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He pulled his sword from the dragon's head and began to wipe the blood and gore off it. He then began to pry scales off the hide, tucking them into his armor.

Lhiannon was likewise pale and exhausted. Her mana was nearly depleted and she was weak and dizzy from blood loss. With shaking hands she pulled a healing flask out of her pack and drank it, grimacing as the bitter liquid coated her mouth. She felt some of her strength returning and watched as the wounds on her hand began to knit themselves closed. She quickly followed it with a lyrium flask, regenerating some of her depleted mana. Bending over, Lhiannon gently laid her staff on the ground. With her hands on her knees and her head hanging low, she tried to calm her breathing and stop the world from spinning around her. The potions she just drank would do her no good if she could not keep them down.

After a few moments centering herself, Lhiannon walked over to where Loghain sat on the ground, his battered armor lying next to him and his torn and stained longshirt sitting on top of the pile. He was grousing at Wynne while she bandaged his wounds. He was obviously in a great deal of pain, but would heal. Lhiannon was relieved; if Loghain was being irritable, he would be fine. She knelt down beside him and reached out to where Wynne was bandaging Loghain's chest and abdomen.

"I'll continue here. Why don't you go check on Sten?"

Wynne looked at her angrily but Lhiannon simply nodded_. I suppose she's not too happy with me right now_, Lhiannon thought. Wynne nodded briskly in return, noticeably relieved, and walked off toward Sten.

Loghain shook his head at Lhiannon. "Your bedside manner will be less hostile than hers, I hope? I think the woman was disappointed that I wasn't a meal for that dragon."

Lhiannon began to wind the bandages around Loghain's chest, using a gentle touch that he was appreciative of. He relaxed visibly. "Well, Flemeth did spit you out, so you must not have been as appetizing as she thought you would be."

Loghain scoffed and chuckled, wincing in pain. "It is my bitterness and lack of manners I suppose," he said, grimacing through the throbbing in his chest. "Turns out it was good for something after all." His breathing was quick and shallow, as drawing deeper breaths caused intense pain to radiate through his chest and back.

"Hold still, Loghain," Lhiannon gently chastised. Placing on hand on his bandaged chest, she closed her eyes in concentration and began whispering softly. She could feel the strong beating of his heart through the bandages. The tickle of healing magic flowed through her and into Loghain, spreading gentle warmth throughout his body. He watched her as she spoke the words to the spell, her voice soft and comforting. The sharp pain began to fade to a dull ache.

After a moment, her mana drained, she opened her eyes; he was looking directly into hers, those blue eyes studying her carefully as if gazing into the depths of her very soul. She found she could not tear herself away from his gaze; she was enthralled by it. In that brief moment, she studied his face. There were small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and near his nose, but even so, time had been kind to him. He looked younger than his years. Her heart began to pound in her chest.

"That is about all I can manage right now," Lhiannon explained nervously, breaking eye contact and feeling a slight flush in her cheeks; she hoped he had not noticed. "My magic is mostly offensive but I do know a basic healing spell or two." She left her hand on his chest a moment longer, then hastily drew it away, picking up the remaining bandages and shoving them into her pack.

"Thank you," he said quietly, suspecting something had just passed between them, but was unsure of exactly what. "I appreciate it."

Lhiannon looked at him with a humorous twinkle in her eye. "What _I_ would appreciate is you not to get eaten by any other creatures before we get to the archdemon. Not only would it be rude to stand up the beast, but we wouldn't have much of a partnership with you digesting in some creature's belly." She smiled at him, thanking the Maker that he would be all right.

Loghain joined her smile with a small one of his own. He gave her a small, courtly nod. "I shall do my best then to not disappoint the archdemon with my rudeness."

* * *

It was nearly dark when Lhiannon and the others returned to camp. Flemeth's grimoire was neatly tucked into Lhiannon's pack. It was not the most pleasant trip back for Lhiannon, as Wynne had bitterly chastised her the minute they set out on the road.

"How could you do it? You used _blood magic_! That is against _everything_ you were taught in the Circle."

Lhiannon, still exhausted and feeling irritable besides, snapped back at Wynne. "What else was I to do, Wynne? Pick up a sword and fight it myself? The dragon had just mauled Loghain and you were busy healing him. Sten was down. That left me as the only one able to face it directly. Those were poor odds—I am no warrior! I had to do it to save all of us. And I used _my own blood _to fuel the spell—not the blood of another. There was no other choice!"

"Where would you have learned such a terrible spell? Certainly not at Kinloch Hold." Wynne snarled at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What have you done?"

Lhiannon sighed, an exasperated and sad sound. "Does it matter? But no, I didn't learn it until after my Harrowing and Joining." She stopped for a moment, rubbing her aching forehead. "I learned it as a spell of last resort, something to use if I was faced with no other option. If it means anything to you Wynne, I don't believe in using the blood of others to fuel spells."

Wynne scowled angrily. "I thought you a better mage than that. Blood magic can corrupt you. There is _never_ an acceptable excuse to use it. It will make you a maleficar! If it was our destiny to die out there then we should have! Do you _want_ the templars to hunt you down?"

"Flemeth wasn't backing down, Wynne. All she had to do was wear us down for a few more minutes and it would have been over. Blizzard spells weren't doing enough damage fast enough. Do you think I _wanted_ to use blood magic?"

Wynne would have none of Lhiannon's reasoning. "It doesn't matter that you did not _want_ to use it; you did it anyway. All you've done is put yourself on the path to becoming a maleficar."

Loghain had finally had enough of Wynne's sanctimonious attitude. A few quick strides brought him to where Wynne and Lhiannon were arguing. "Do you want to be rotting in the swamp and having Flemeth decorate her hut with your skull, woman? Because I assure you, that is exactly what would have happened."

Wynne threw her hands up in disgust. "What you fail to understand is that she defied everything she was taught to save _your_ miserable life. And for what?"

"And you were there as well, so it was your life that was also spared. Or do you not _remember_ that?" Loghain sneered at her.

With a scoff, Wynne angrily walked ahead, putting significant distance between herself and Lhiannon. Lhiannon could her Wynne muttering to herself as she stomped off.

Lhiannon sighed, rubbing her forehead. She did not regret the decision to use blood magic. It had to be done. It was either that or die at Flemeth's hand and all would have been lost. Wynne was a true product of the Circle however, and perhaps she would never understand it. Would she inform the Circle? What if the templars did come?

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Loghain walking beside her. "I overhead what she said to you. You did what was necessary. Never doubt that."

Lhiannon nodded her thanks and Loghain removed his hand from her shoulder, a small prickle running through her as he did. She furrowed her brow. _That was strange,_ she thought.

They had reached the edge of the camp when Loghain put a hand on Lhiannon's forearm to catch her attention. "Lhiannon, hold a moment, if you would." Lhiannon stopped and turned to look at Loghain, a questioning look on her face.

"Yes?"

Loghain removed his hand from her forearm and ran it through his hair as if to gather his thoughts. When he spoke to her, he kept his voice low so that the others in camp would not overhear them.

"I understand you've been to Ostagar recently and I'm sure it still holds...unpleasant...memories for you."

Lhiannon's eyes narrowed and she looked at him suspiciously. "It does," she agreed, the caution evident in her voice.

Loghain nodded his understanding. "I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I find myself wanting to make peace with what happened there. Don't ask me to go into the details of it right now. It is something I need to do."

"You ask me to go to Ostagar again?" she asked indignantly, placing her hands on her hips and staring at him with fire in her eyes. "With you? If you wish me to even _entertain_ this notion, you'll have to do better than 'it's something I need to do'".

Loghain sighed irritably, shaking his head, knowing he would likely regret this. "I want to make peace with what happened there and that means seeing it myself. Believe it or not, I'm not doing this to gloat over what happened there. I made my decisions based on what I thought was best at the time. I simply need see it for myself."

Lhiannon could feel no sense of deception through the taint. She was unable to ascertain anything from his expression. "Are you certain about this? And what about the others?" she asked, motioning toward the camp with her hand. "Do you think _they_ would wish to go there again?"

"I was hoping we two would go. It would be quicker that way. The others need not come. They can remain here."

Lhiannon frowned, her brow furrowed as she stared off into the distance pondering his request. This probably was not the best idea, considering what they had just went through in the Korcari Wilds. The delay in their journey would be a double-edged sword. On one hand, the others could rest, allowing their niggling injuries to heal. On the other, it would be another delay on their way to Redcliffe; several days all told. She sighed, putting her hand up to her ear and fussing with the earrings there. She and Alistair had all but dragged the others to Ostagar so they could find _their_ peace. Who was she to deny Loghain the same if he sincerely wished to find _his_ peace? Since she could feel nothing like deception from him, she had to believe in his sincerity.

"Very well, Loghain," she sighed, resigned. "We shall leave in the morning." Loghain nodded his thanks.

Lhiannon turned and walked into the camp, not knowing if Loghain followed. She gathered the others around the fire and told them of the short delay in their journey. There were many questions and several accusations against Loghain and what ulterior motives he may or may not have, but in the end agreed to remain in camp while Lhiannon and Loghain made their trip to Ostagar.

* * *

It was early, the sun not even over the horizon yet. Lhiannon was in her tent putting supplies in her pack when there was a polite cough from outside the flap. She rose to open it and saw Morrigan on the other side, a pack of her own in her hands. "May I come in?" she asked quietly.

"Please," Lhiannon said, motioning her inside. Morrigan entered and tied the flap shut behind her, turning to face Lhiannon with a stony look on her face.

"You know that I believe this quest is folly, but I cannot stop you," she began haughtily, kneeling on the floor of the tent and opening her pack. She began pulling out a number of poultices and lyrium flasks. "If I cannot stop you from going on this fool adventure, I can at least make sure you have plenty of healing supplies with you. Your healing magic leaves much to be desired."

Lhiannon knelt next to her and smiled, taking the offered supplies and putting them into her own pack. "Thank you, Morrigan. I think."

"You can best thank me by coming back in one piece. And if you happen to lose Loghain along the way, I'll not shed any tears." Lhiannon rolled her eyes at Morrigan, the expression both humorous and exasperated. "I also have a suggestion, if I may?"

"Of course, Morrigan."

"As you know, we are not far from Flemeth's abandoned hut. 'Tis a more defensible spot than our camp here. There will be residual magic around it that will keep us safe while you are gone."

Lhiannon thought that sounded like an excellent idea. "I hadn't thought of that. All right, take the others to the hut. Make sure everyone gets the rest they need," Lhiannon told her. "This will almost certainly be the last break we get for some time, so take advantage of it."

"And what about you?" Morrigan asked, concern in her voice. "You should be resting as well. The dreams are taking a toll on you, 'tis plain to see."

Lhiannon nodded in agreement with Morrigan, rubbing her aching forehead as she did so. "They are, but they won't be going away as long as there is a Blight to contend with. I'll make do, Morrigan."

Morrigan looked down at the ground, running her fingers through her bound hair. "I wanted to thank you for what you did; dealing with Flemeth. I shall rest easier now, knowing that she won't be coming for me any time soon."

Lhiannon took Morrigan's hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're welcome, Morrigan." Lhiannon released Morrigan's hand and then stood, gathering her pack and weapons. She moved toward the door, Morrigan right behind her. "Well, I should see if Loghain is ready to go."

"Good luck to you," Morrigan scoffed. "You'll likely need it."

Lhiannon exited her tent into the camp to find Loghain kneeling near their supply cart, securing his own pack and placing arrows into a quiver. She saw that he had decided to take his longbow with them, as they would probably need to go hunting at some point. They were traveling light, which meant they would leave most of the provisions behind with the rest of their group while they waited for Lhiannon and Loghain to return. Traveling lighter meant they could make quicker progress to Ostagar.

Loghain was leaving his damaged heavy plate armor behind for Bodahn to repair. In its place, he wore studded leather armor. Lhiannon was not sure what type of leather it was, but it looked sturdier than regular leather armor and had to have cost a small fortune. Lhiannon was still wearing her light chain armor, as it had not been heavily damaged in the battle with Flemeth. She knew how to make light repairs on the links; it would give her something to do when they made camp. She secured her staff to the rigging on her back as she moved away from her tent. Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she approached Loghain.

"Are you ready?"

Loghain stood as she approached, securing the quiver to his back. "Yes. Let's be off."

* * *

_We're taking a little side trip on our march to Redcliffe. We'll be well on our way there soon._

_And as always, a big hearty THANK YOU to everyone who is following along and reviewing. It's been a lot of fun and I'm blown away by the reaction the story has received. I appreciate the support and encouragement!  
_


	8. Where It All Began

Loghain was a quiet traveling companion, speaking only when necessary. If an hour's worth of conversation passed between them all day, Lhiannon would eat the end of her magic staff. The lack of conversation did nothing to ease the edginess she had been feeling all day. Though the weather was perfect for their trip—the sun that made it through the treetops felt wonderful on her exposed skin—she could not shake the edginess she felt. She knew it was not just because she was with Loghain on his pilgrimage to Ostagar; it felt like the dreams would be coming with a vengeance tonight. She was glad she brought Wynne's herbs with her. The flagon of wine probably would not hurt either.

They stopped beside a pond not long before the sun went down and tethered the horses near the water. Loghain took his bow and went hunting while Lhiannon built a fire and set a pot of water on it to boil. She spread out her bedroll and sat down, removing her upper armor and inspecting the links for damage. She began to hum absentmindedly as she repaired the damaged links she found.

Loghain had been standing just beyond where they made camp; several skinned and cleaned ground squirrels in his hand. He had stopped short when he heard Lhiannon humming to herself as she repaired her armor. He listened to her for several minutes; she was humming a tune Leliana would sometimes sing at camp. It was a song about love and loss that Loghain had found strangely peaceful. He supposed it was the tune itself rather than the words. Leliana had the trained voice of a bard, deep and resonant. Lhiannon's humming was sweeter and he found himself oddly fascinated with it. Lhiannon's voice was soothing and he had to reluctantly admit to himself that he enjoyed listening to it. Shaking his head to break the trance, he entered their small campsite and began to skewer the squirrels to cook over the fire.

Lhiannon looked up at him briefly when he entered camp, pausing in her humming for a moment. She caught a flicker in the taint, but was unsure of what it was. She shrugged and went back to mending her armor, absentmindedly humming again, quieter this time. If she could just figure him out, that would put her mind at ease. The man was nothing short of an enigma.

Loghain sat on the other side of the small fire, occasionally turning the meat so it would cook evenly. Lhiannon could see out of the corner of her eye that he was occasionally watching her; it made her uneasy. His eyes were intense and unsettling sometimes. After he had turned the meat again, he sat back and resumed watching her as if trying to figure something out.

"Aren't you a little old to have just gone through your Harrowing?" he finally asked.

Lhiannon looked up at him, her eyebrow raised. "I'm not the oldest mage to have gone through the Harrowing, you know," she snorted. "My abilities didn't manifest until I was in my teens."

"Just how old _are _you?" he asked, eyes narrowing at her questioningly.

She scoffed at him. "Don't you know it's impolite to ask a lady her age?" Loghain raised an eyebrow at her. "If you must know," she continued, "I am in my thirtieth year."

_Anora's age? _"You don't look it." Loghain was surprised; he would have sworn to Andraste herself that Lhiannon was at best half his age and a number of years younger than Anora.

She grinned widely. "I thank you for the compliment."

By this time the meat had finished cooking and Loghain handed Lhiannon one of the spits. They ate in silence, both concentrating on their meager dinner. When she was finished, she set the stick in the fire and picked up her chain armor again. She was making good progress on the repairs and she wanted to finish before she turned in for the night. She was also hoping the busy work would help calm her edginess.

"When did you switch to wearing armor?" Loghain asked her. "I seem to remember you wearing traditional robes when we first met."

Lhiannon nodded as she fished a new metal link from the small pack at her side. "You remember correctly. However, I was ran through the stomach once by a hurlock's sword. Not the most pleasant experience. After that, I started wearing chain armor."

Loghain began to fashion more arrows to replace a couple that had broken during his hunt. His eyes kept flicking back toward Lhiannon on occasion. He could sense her edginess, not all of it through the taint either. She caught his eyes once, raising her brows in question. He scowled at being caught and looked back down at his arrows. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him, for which he cursed himself, and looked up at Lhiannon.

"I thought magical abilities manifested themselves in childhood."

Lhiannon looked up, surprised at the question. "For the most part, yes. Sometimes the abilities don't manifest until a mage is older. Sometimes a traumatic experience triggers it."

"And you were simply older?" he asked, smoothing the fletching on the arrow in his hand.

Lhiannon sighed, setting her chain armor aside. This was turning into an uncomfortable conversation, especially since it was Loghain asking her the questions. He was usually indifferent about these things and it made her wonder why he was suddenly so interested in her now. It was probably just to pass the time. She pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing at the tenderness there. "Not exactly. There was also trauma involved. To be honest, Loghain, I'd rather not discuss it."

He nodded curtly. "As you wish."

Lhiannon picked up her armor and resumed searching for damaged links. Loghain's attention was turned to the fire, warming himself next to it and adding wood when it burned low. He sat with his legs crossed, forearms resting on his knees and Lhiannon nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke.

"Tell me, how was it _you_ became a Grey Warden?"

Lhiannon looked up at him, raising one of her brows and smirking at him. "What, you didn't have me investigated once you knew I was becoming a threat to you?"

Loghain scoffed, a corner of his mouth turning up in a sardonic grin. "Of course I did. I learned much about you but there were gaps in the information. I knew you had a spot of trouble at the Circle, but not exactly what."

Lhiannon chuckled. "'A spot' is putting it lightly." She sighed, putting her armor aside once again and leaning back on her hands, stretching her legs out in front of her. "I helped a friend destroy his phylactery after we found out he was to be made Tranquil."

Loghain raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"My friend was having an affair with a Chantry initiate. She found evidence that suspected my friend of dabbling in blood magic. They were going to force him to undergo the Rite of Tranquility." She scoffed disdainfully. "The templars used that threat often to try and keep mages in line."

Lhiannon paused for a moment, her eyes looking far away as she gazed into the fire. Loghain waited patiently for her to continue. Finally, his curiosity got the best of him and he prompted her with a quiet question. "And?"

"Do you know what happens to a mage when they undergo the Rite of Tranquility?" Lhiannon asked, bitterness in her voice.

Loghain nodded. "I have a vague understanding of it."

Lhiannon sighed deeply, shaking her head slightly. "Mages who are either dangerous in the eyes of the Chantry or Circle, or are suspected of not having sufficient will to survive the Harrowing are _forced_ to undergo the Rite. It severs the mage's connection to the Fade. In severing that connection, all emotions are destroyed. They feel _nothing_ after that; not love, nor hate, nor passion. They don't laugh. They don't cry. It destroys the essence of the mage and leaves an empty shell behind. It's the cruelest of fates for mages, though the Chantry will say it's a kindness."

"And the Grey Wardens?" Loghain asked.

"After my friend destroyed his phylactery, we were confronted by the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander. My friend used blood magic to try and escape with his lover. He escaped after his lover rejected him for using it. The initiate was taken to the mages prison at Aeonar. The Knight-Commander wanted me to go to Aeonar as well, but Duncan asked to have me become a Grey Warden instead. He was impressed at the lengths I went to in helping my friend."

"What happened to the mage?" Loghain asked.

Lhiannon shrugged. "I imagine he's still languishing in the dungeon at Redcliffe Castle awaiting execution."

Loghain's brow furrowed, the gesture one of questioning. "Redcliffe?"

"His name is Jowan. He was the mage brought in by the arlessa to tutor Connor." Lhiannon looked at Loghain, her brow raised. "The mage who poisoned the arl."

Loghain nodded his head in understanding. "Ah," was all he said.

They sat in silence for several minutes, both working on their separate projects when Loghain scoffed, raising his eyes to Lhiannon and breaking the silence. "So, was Maric's bastard the only Grey Warden in Ferelden who wasn't conscripted because they had run into trouble?"

Lhiannon shrugged, a wry grin on her face. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

She turned to the boiling water on the fire, spooning a small amount into a mug and adding some of Wynne's herbs into it, crushing and blending the mixture. Loghain noticed that she was putting more herbs than usual into the mug and less water. When she was finished, she went into her pack and brought out the flagon of wine and filled the remainder of the cup with it. She put the flagon aside and took a drink of the liquid, grimacing as she swallowed.

"Expecting trouble?" he asked.

"Possibly." Lhiannon snorted. "In truth, probably."

"Shall I take first watch?"

"If you would."

He nodded his agreement. Lhiannon finished off her wine and moved to her bedroll. It was fully dark and she hoped she could get some sleep before Loghain woke her for second watch. She lay on her back, watching the stars circle overhead. Her eyes eventually became heavy with wine and exhaustion. Sleep finally took her.

* * *

Lhiannon was not having a restful sleep. Loghain watched her as she occasionally jerked and moaned in her sleep. The herbs did not seem to help her much this night. He had never tried using the herbs before, but if she was having a difficult time with the dreams, he likely would as well. He may as well use the herbs and try to get some half decent sleep this night; he had a feeling that when they arrived at Ostagar tomorrow, it would be a difficult day.

Loghain truly did want to make peace with Ostagar. He knew Lhiannon was not happy with his request to come here but he respected her decision to accompany him. It spoke a lot about her character. He could only imagine how it made her feel, looking back on both of their roles at Ostagar. He really did believe that turning his army back was the right thing to do at the time. Cailan should have _listened _to him; if he had, this whole situation could have been avoided. _Damn you Cailan_, Loghain thought for the thousandth time, _why did you have to be so foolish?_

He added more wood onto the fire. The night had grown chilly and sleeping on the cold ground was not the most comfortable way to spend the night. Loghain stood up and stretched, walking for a bit around their small campsite to loosen his tight, aching muscles. The horses nickered at him softly as he passed by and he absentmindedly stroked their muscular necks. Lhiannon's uneasiness had seeped into him and he felt his nerves on edge.

A small shriek came from the direction of their camp and Loghain whirled about, pulling his blade and searching for the source of the sound. It took him only a second to realize that it was Lhiannon, who had wakened from a deep sleep and was frantically trying to crawl her way out of her bedroll and very nearly rolled herself into the fire. Loghain sheathed his sword and hurried over to her, bending down next to her and gently pulling her away from the fire.

"Careful there," he said quietly. "We don't have enough poultices to treat you if you roll into the fire."

Loghain helped Lhiannon sit up, his hand lingering on her back until he was sure she was settled. She was shaking all over. She rubbed her face with her hands and grimaced. Her dream was a strange one tonight. She dreamed of her father, something she had not done in years. She did not have the most pleasant memories of the man; in her dream, he morphed from human to darkspawn and was chasing her through the trees. She would strike him with spells but he would just keep coming. At the end, he had finally caught her, wrapping his corrupted hands around her throat and squeezing.

"These bloody dreams are getting worse by the day," she grimaced, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. "I swear Loghain, I'd like just _one night_ without darkspawn parading themselves through my head."

"An occupational hazard of being a Grey Warden."

Lhiannon sighed and looked up at the sky. The stars had moved somewhat, so she had at least slept for a couple of hours. She knew that she would not be able to get back to sleep this night. More sleep would have been better but she would take what she got. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips, grimacing at the tenderness there. "I'm not going to be able to sleep, Loghain. You're welcome to try; I'll stay on watch."

"If you had difficulty with dreams tonight, I don't see where I will fare any better," he complained.

"You need to rest. I can mix up some of the herbs for you, if you'd like," she offered. This time, Loghain accepted with a reluctant nod. She placed the kettle on the fire and a few minutes later the water was steaming. She placed the herbs in a mug and added the water to it. "Wine?" she asked, but he declined. After she finished mixing everything, she handed the mug to Loghain. He brought the mug to his nose and smelled the contents, grimacing.

"I fear the smell will be better than the taste," he smirked. Lhiannon smirked back at him. "You would be right," she agreed.

* * *

It was Lhiannon's turn to watch Loghain sleep. At times, he seemed peaceful but she could tell when his dream turned darker as his limbs would twitch and a scowl would cross his face. Lhiannon found herself studying his face as he slept; she was curious about him and that was the only time she could do it without him catching her. When he was not scowling, she found him to be a ruggedly handsome man, his face younger than his years. He had several small scars on his face, pale against the surrounding skin. His hair looked thick and held no trace of gray like many other men near his age. She had only seen him out of his full suit of armor a handful of times, but he was broad of chest and shoulder with a narrow waist and long, muscular legs. Very fit, considering his age. Of course, wearing that heavy plate armor for so long was bound to keep one strong and fit.

She pondered their partnership as he sighed and turned his head to the side. Since the resolution of their bitter argument nearly ten days ago, she found him to be a fairly reasonable man. He _was_ taciturn, there was no question about it and was still quite so with the other companions. However, the two of them came to an unspoken understanding that as Grey Wardens, they were both fighting for the same cause. She was beginning to see that he was not the monstrous figure he had been characterized as.

Lhiannon paused for a moment in her thoughts. As she gazed at Loghain's sleeping form, she suddenly realized that over the last few days, his taciturn nature toward her had been changing; where he was cold before, he was treating her with respect and courtesy. Yes, perhaps they were coming to an understanding after all. Ostagar, however, would likely put that understanding to the test.

* * *

They had arrived at Ostagar before midday. Lhiannon could feel the pit in her stomach growing all morning, getting larger as they drew closer to Ostagar. The day had clouded over and a light rain began to fall. Perfect, considering the circumstances of their visit. They had passed a number of decaying darkspawn corpses on the way in, reminders to Lhiannon of her last trip here. She vowed to herself that this would be the last time she came to Ostagar for quite a while. There were too many memories here, few of them good.

She could also sense Loghain's uneasiness as they drew closer to Ostagar. Like her, he had not slept well the night before, however he was able to get a couple more hours of sleep than she did. She was glad at least one of them slept somewhat. He was brooding even more than usual this morning, his thoughts unknown to her and his face unreadable. She had been leading the way in to Ostagar; they were approaching the bridge connecting the remains of the King's camp to the Tower of Ishal when Loghain called out to her.

"Lhiannon, stop," he called out. She turned her horse around to find him gazing at the bridge and the camp across the way. He dismounted from the horse and tied the reins around the remnants of a post sticking out of the ground. She walked her horse back next to his and slid off, securing the reins to the post as well. He continued to stare at the bridge, a shadow crossing his face.

"Where did you find him?" he finally asked.

"Just ahead, on the bridge," she said quietly, pointing out the crude cross the darkspawn had erected in the center. "On that cross."

Loghain began to walk toward the bridge, slowly at first but them with greater purpose. Lhiannon followed him as he walked. When he neared the center, he held his hand up. "Wait there," he barked sharply. She could feel the taint roiling within him now, alternating between anger and grief. She stopped and sat down on a piece of rubble overlooking the valley below, leaving Loghain to his own thoughts. She could hear his footsteps stop as he reached the cross; she turned to see him staring up at it. The light rain was still falling steadily and Lhiannon drew her cloak more tightly around her, trying to keep dry. It was a futile effort, as the rain seemed to find every gap in her armor, soaking the clothing beneath and chilling her to the bone. She turned her head away from Loghain and stared at the valley floor, trying to keep the memories from taking over. She concentrated on counting the remaining trees in the valley to keep her mind busy.

She heard Loghain say something, but could not make out what it was. She turned her head toward him. He was still looking up at the cross. The hood from his cloak had fallen off his head and the breeze made it billow around him. His leathers were soaking wet but he did not seem to notice.

"Loghain. Did you say something?" Lhiannon asked him.

"I helped raise him after Rowan died," he said quietly. Lhiannon stood and tentatively began walking toward Loghain. If he wanted her to leave, he did not say so.

"You did?" she asked hesitantly.

"He was like a son to me. I cared for him when Maric went with the Grey Wardens into the Deep Roads. If Maric died there, I was to be Cailan's regent." He paused, still looking up at the cross. The rain fell into his face, the drops running down his cheeks and dripping off his hair and chin. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"Maric and I betrothed Cailan and Anora when they were children. It was what we both wanted, a way of honoring our friendship. It had been strained for a while, but we had found each other again."

Loghain continued to stare at the cross, letting the rain fall into his face. After several more minutes staring upward, he turned to Lhiannon. She noticed that his eyes were shiny; he could have been weeping but with the rain falling into his face, she could not be certain.

"Where was the pyre?" he asked.

Lhiannon motioned to a scorched and blackened area of the bridge not far from the makeshift cross. "There," she pointed out.

Loghain walked over to the blackened area, his back to Lhiannon and staring down at it for a long time. She watched at his body began to tremble slightly, his hands clenching into fists and then opening again. Over and over he opened and closed his fists. The taint was roiling even more fiercely than before, the grief beginning to give way to anger. Loghain suddenly snarled and spat onto the remains of the pyre.

"Damn you Cailan," Lhiannon heard him growl. "Damn you for betraying Ferelden. For betraying Anora. For betraying all of us. I loved you as a son, but I cannot forgive you."

Lhiannon could feel the Loghain's hatred coming off him in waves. It nearly overwhelmed her with its force. It was the type of hate that was born out of love betrayed. How he was going to find his peace here, she did not know. After a few moments, Loghain sighed heavily and turning from the pyre, looked at Lhiannon.

"I'm finished here," he said quietly, walking away from the pyre and past her back toward the horses. She turned away from the pyre and began to follow Loghain off the bridge. When she reached post, Loghain handed her the reins to her horse and paused. He looked down at the ground. "You should have left him for the wolves," he said growled quietly. They were just about to mount their horses when Lhiannon was knocked forward by a blow to her back followed by burning pain.

"Andraste's blood! What the…"

She grimaced and began to turn to see what had happened when Loghain grabbed her by the arm and pushed her to the ground behind some rubble. The taint had flared to life around them.

"Get down!" he shouted at her. She looked up to see a band of darkspawn in front of them and could hear others behind them. They were surrounded. Loghain rushed forward to confront the creatures in front of him, bellowing a war cry that stunned the creatures. Lhiannon unsteadily got to her feet to face the darkspawn behind them and saw several of them rushing forward. She began to chant a spell of ice, freezing the creatures in place. As they froze, she immediately changed her spell and large stones began to fly from her outstretched hand. Several of the creatures shattered into pieces, dripping ichor as they thawed.

She heard Loghain curse and saw that he had several arrows sticking out of his leather armor. He had dispatched most of the creatures around him and the remainder had broken ranks and began to flee. He sheathed his sword and pulled the longbow from his back. With a motion nearly too fast for Lhiannon to see, he shot an arrow into the neck of a fleeing hurlock. He quickly shot another arrow at the last fleeing darkspawn, the arrow lodging itself into the creature's back. It fell forward, writhing on the ground until Loghain calmly approached it and ran his sword through it. Lhiannon heard movement from behind her again and prepared another spell but saw that the remaining darkspawn were fleeing back into the ruins.

"Get to the horses," Loghain barked at her, turning back and moving quickly toward her.

"You need not to tell me twice."

They quickly mounted the spooked horses and rode hard out of Ostagar, leaving its ghosts and darkspawn behind. They pushed the horses as fast as they could, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them and the ruins before they stopped to rest and tend to their injuries.

* * *

The rain had finally ended when they made camp. They had traveled until the taint had fallen quiet, hoping that they had seen the last of the darkspawn for a while. Lhiannon's back burned and she was feeling nauseous and light headed. The bolt was still lodged in the skin on her right side just below her breast band; she could not see it clearly and did not want to pull it out and cause more harm. Every thud of the horse's hooves sent shocks of pain through her body. Her healing magic had not done much to quell the scorching pain.

Loghain had tied their horses to nearby trees and pulled the arrows out of his armor. He pulled a rag from his pack and began to tie it around a profusely bleeding wound in his upper arm, holding one end of the rag in his teeth as he tightened. Lhiannon was still astride her horse, waiting for the latest round of nausea to subside. When it quelled a bit, she eased herself out of the saddle and suddenly found herself in a heap on the ground, grimacing in pain.

"Are you all right?" Loghain asked through gritted teeth. He secured the rag with a second knot as he hurried around to where Lhiannon was laying on the ground. He could see the bolt sticking out of her back.

"No. Something isn't right with the sodding bolt in my back."

Lhiannon took his offered hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. She swayed and her vision began to go gray along the edges. Loghain wrapped his arm around her waist and half led, half carried her away from the horses to the shelter of several toppled trees.

"We need to get this bolt out of you. Lie down," he ordered. Lhiannon, in no condition to argue, complied gratefully. Loghain pulled some of the damaged metal links apart to widen the hole in her armor. He then pressed his left hand down on her back hard and pulled the bolt out with a swift jerk, blood quickly pooling into the empty space. Lhiannon shouted in pain and jerked beneath him. "Maker's breath that sodding hurt!" she complained through gritted teeth.

Loghain examined the bolt and saw a sticky green substance coated on the end of it. He brought it up to his nose and smelled it. "This bolt was coated with something. I need to see your wound to make sure it isn't festering."

She slowly sat back on her knees, fussing with the straps on her armor to remove it. She was having a hard time pulling it over her head as her back burned like fire; Loghain helped her ease the armor over her head. She stopped and regarded him warily.

"The shirt has to come off too. I can't see the wound under it," Loghain told bluntly. Her eyes went wide and she looked at him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He chuckled. "You would not be the first woman I've seen without a shirt."

"No, I suppose not." Lhiannon sighed. She loosened the ties on her shirt and pulled it off with her working hand. She laid the shirt on the ground in front of her and settled herself on it, her nearly naked back exposed to Loghain. The only thing covering her was the strip of cloth holding her breasts in place. She flushed red, feeling it travel down her face and neck. Loghain gently probed the wound with a clean cloth from their pack.

"Yes, there was some sort of coating on the end of the bolt. An acid or a mild poison."

"Well, that would explain why my magic wasn't working very well with it."

"The good news is that it doesn't look like it's festering. It should heal cleanly."

Loghain pulled some fresh water from a pack and gently cleaned her wound. At first the wound burned like fire and Lhiannon hissed in pain, but as Loghain continued, the burning began to subside and became a deep, throbbing ache as he cleaned the substance away. His hands were rough but gentle on her skin. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at the thought of his hands and quickly fought to control it.

"You're quite the healer," she remarked as the pain continued to subside.

"Unfortunately, I've had a great deal of practice over the years."

Loghain pulled stitches gently through her skin with an experienced hand. When he finished, he covered the wound with clean cloth and helped her sit up so he could bind the bandages in place. As he bound the cloth around her, he tried not to let his eyes linger too long on her bare skin. It was difficult; she _was_ attractive and he was, after all, a man. At one point his hand unintentionally brushed the bottom of her breasts as he wrapped the cloth around her; she flinched. It felt like sparks jolted her skin.

"My apologies," he muttered. _Idiot_, he admonished himself.

"Accepted," she gasped, her breath caught in her throat.

When Loghain was finished, Lhiannon donned her battered shirt and turned her attention to the wound on his arm. He had removed his upper armor and shirt so she could work on the injury. She gingerly cleaned the wound and began to examine it closely. "I don't see where anything broke off or the arrow was coated in something. It's rather deep though."

"It's making several of my fingers numb," he said, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Hold still while I cast." Lhiannon gently held his arm and chanted a healing spell, running her fingers lightly over the wound. The spell made the wound smaller but not completely healed. Loghain could sense the numbness subsiding in the last two fingers of his hand and he began to flex them experimentally.

"Feeling better?" she asked, holding the spell a little longer.

He nodded, alternately flexing his hand and massaging it. "Much."

Lhiannon could feel the taut muscles moving under the skin as he flexed his hand, strong from years of combat. His shoulders and chest were broad; the center of his chest was sparsely covered with dark hair. She put stitches in his arm and found herself admiring his form. _Nice_, she thought, quickly quashing it as she felt her cheeks begin to flush.

Loghain could feel her eyes on him and while it irritated him somewhat, there was a small part of him that foolishly enjoyed the wandering eyes of a younger woman. It made him feel young again. He could feel heat beginning to spread within him, clearly a recipe for disaster. _Maker's breath man, attend to reality! _Thankfully, Lhiannon finished the stitches and gently applied a salve to the wound and bandaged it. He nodded his thanks, grabbing his bow. He needed to hunt, but he also needed space to quell the rising heat within him.

As Loghain went off to hunt, Lhiannon once again gathered wood for the fire. She also gathered some longer pieces to have nearby so they could hang their wet clothes to dry. She felt melancholy, and not just because of the poor weather all day. Ostagar had left her drained emotionally again and the wound on her back ached terribly. Loghain had said almost nothing after they treated their wounds, lost in his own brooding thoughts. It was certainly going to be a quiet night in camp now that their wounds had been tended to.

Lhiannon's armor rested on a rag beside her; she would need to carefully dry and oil it tonight so it would not rust. Looking around to make sure she was alone and using her cloak as a cover, she quickly removed the remainder of her wet clothing and dressed in a spare set of dry clothes. She did not know why she bothered to use the cloak as a cover; Loghain had very nearly seen her naked from the waist up just a short time ago. Her breast band certainly left little to the imagination. She immediately felt better though; the wet clothing had given her a chill all day, which did not go along well with the burning she had in her back. She hung the wet clothing on sticks near the fire to dry and settled close to the coals to warm herself.

Loghain returned a short while later with some skinned and cleaned rabbits, which he threaded onto sticks to cook over the fire. When that was finished, he removed the remainder of his wet leather armor, laying it out on the ground around him to dry. He reached into his pack to pull out some dry clothes; Lhiannon noticed this and politely turned her back to the fire to offer him a small amount of privacy. She reached up and began to braid her damp hair; she did not want it falling into her face while she worked on her armor. Loghain glanced her way while he was dressing and was captivated by her deft fingers as they worked their way down her scalp. As her hands moved down toward the ends of her hair, he found himself admiring the curve of her neck. She turned her head slightly to bring the last of the long strands toward her shoulder to finish braiding and securing them. His eyes moved along the curve of her jaw where it met near her ear; two small golden hoops circled the skin of her lobe. They made a slight musical note as they brushed each other.

As he watched, something stirred inside him, something Loghain had not felt in a long time. Watching her perform such a personal act had awakened such longing, yearning feelings. Desire. Need. How soft was her skin? Her hair? He felt his body beginning to stir. He suddenly snapped himself out of his trance, cursing himself angrily and sitting down, willing his traitorous body to stop. _You are an idiot and a fool_, he scolded himself.

Lhiannon heard him sit and turned back around to the fire, picking up her armor. She began to dry and oil it. He sat motionless, staring into the fire and willing his body to calm while the rabbits cooked. After some time, his eyes shifted again to Lhiannon.

"Thank you for coming to Ostagar again," he said quietly.

Lhiannon looked at him, a small smile playing across her face. "You're welcome. I hope you found some peace."

He sighed. "Time will tell."

* * *

_A/N: A long chapter! I considered breaking it in two but changed my mind. Another note: I wanted my Warden a few years older than what she would have been in DA:O. Just because.  
_

_Thanks again to everyone who is following along! I appreciate the comments and support!  
_


	9. Crumbling to Dust

_A/N: Lots of conversation in this chapter. Had to be done though._

* * *

Early the next morning, Lhiannon directed an ice spell at the fire pit while Loghain secured their packs to the horses. They were going to rejoin their other companions at Flemeth's hut before continuing their journey toward Redcliffe. It only took a short while to break down their meager camp and set off.

"How does your arm fare today?" Lhiannon asked as they began their trip.

Loghain rotated his arm from the shoulder and flexed it experimentally. "It's a bit stiff, but should be fine later. And your back?"

"Sore, but far better than yesterday. You are an excellent healer."

Loghain scoffed at her and returned his gaze to the road ahead, silence once again settling over their journey.

"Do you think, perhaps, I should invest in some heavier armor?" she asked.

Loghain turned to look at her quizzically. "I thought mages shied away from heavy armor."

Lhiannon shrugged at him. "Well, I'm a bit different from other mages."

At that, Loghain snorted at her. "I've known that since our duel at the Landsmeet. What makes _you_ so different?"

"Have you ever heard of an arcane warrior?"

Loghain furrowed his brow in thought, then shook his head. "Not that I recall."

"It's an old elven ability. We were in the ruins of a temple on the Brecilian Forest where I found an ancient phylactery in a ruined library. When I picked it up, there was an entity trapped inside it."

Loghain's grimaced, his face wrinkled in distaste. "A trapped entity? For how long?"

Lhiannon shook her head and shrugged. "I'm unsure. Centuries, most like. It begged me to release it and in return, would teach me the skill of an arcane warrior. I would be able to cast, but use heavier weapons and armor. Hence, I freed it."

"So that is how you were able to wield a blade and cast spells in our duel," Loghain mused, the answers to his questions falling into place. "I had wondered how you managed to pull that off." He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. "You were _not_ a nice, predictable opponent."

Lhiannon chuckled at him. "I wasn't trying to be _nice_ at all."

"Nor I."

They rode in silence for a while. The sun had come out and Lhiannon found herself turning her face toward it, letting its rays warm her skin. Winters could be brutal in Ferelden and she enjoyed soaking up the sun whenever she could.

"You know," Lhiannon began, breaking the silence, "before my Joining and Ostagar, I couldn't have cared less about Ferelden politics. What you teyrns and arls and banns were up to was no concern of mine. It was Alistair who suggested throwing our lot in with Eamon after Ostagar."

Loghain scoffed at her. "Even when I was a teyrn, I couldn't have cared less about politics. Unfortunately, I was up to my neck in it whether I liked it or not."

"We had the Grey Warden treaties in hand, the treaties that promised the aid of humans, dwarves, and elves in the event of a Blight." Lhiannon paused, shaking her head and gritting her teeth. "What frustrated me was that before _anyone _would fulfill their obligations to the Grey Wardens, they wanted us to do favors for them. Clean up their messes. I was glad to have helped, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't disconcerted about it."

Loghain turned to look at her, a smirk on his face. "I never expected you to gather the armies as fast as you did. I thought the fight over the ascension of the dwarven king alone would put you back weeks. In that time, I had hoped to secure the border and begin to push the darkspawn south." He scoffed at her. "You were very determined and quite troublesome."

"We had the same goal, Loghain: stop the Blight. It was maddening to see Fereldens fighting each other. We wasted so much time and effort on that when we should have been fighting the darkspawn all along."

Loghain frowned at her. "The Orlesians…"

"Oh _fuck_ the Orlesians, Loghain!" she spat, watching his eyes go momentarily wide. "I hated them too, especially after the tales I heard of what Remille and his cronies did at Kinloch Hold; beating and killing Ferelden mages, some of them little more than _children_. If Ferelden had been united in the first place and everyone fulfilling their obligations to the Wardens, we could have secured the border _and_ ran the darkspawn back into the ground."

After a moment in which the silence hung thick around them, Loghain began to chuckle. "Had I known you felt that way at Ostagar, I would have asked you to throw in your lot with me. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble. Perhaps we both could have talked Cailan off the front lines and avoided this whole mess; you are quite persuasive."

"You would have been throwing in _your_ lot with _me_," she joked.

"You think so?" he bantered back at her. They both shared a laugh and Lhiannon felt herself warming to him. No, he was not the monster she thought he was. Once again silence fell upon them as they traveled. Lhiannon's mind began to wander, brushing over any number of subjects, her face turned toward the sun to warm it.

"Perhaps you should consider heavier armor."

Loghain's sudden comment startled Lhiannon out of her sun bathing and she turned to see him regarding her with a raised brow. "And you should consider looking ahead when you are on your horse and not staring directly into the sun."

"I have thought about it. My magical abilities will augment my strength until I am used to the heavier armor. Perhaps when we get to Redcliffe, I'll inquire with the blacksmith there. I also should work with a sword rather than a dagger."

Loghain turned his head to hide his grimace. He would probably regret this offer. "If you are indeed serious about using a sword, I would be willing to train you."

"You would?" she asked, surprised.

"Did I not say I would?" he replied, his voice irritable. "I do not care to repeat myself."

Lhiannon nodded. "I would welcome any training you would give."

Loghain curtly nodded and returned his attention to the road ahead of them, spurring his horse forward to ride ahead of Lhiannon. The truth was he had thought about training her with a blade since the battle with Flemeth. She had used blood magic and in the process nearly made an enemy out of Wynne. Though he still did not entirely trust magic, he could not fault Lhiannon for using blood magic; it had likely saved their lives. _He_ was not about to tell the templars; it was possible however that Wynne could inform the Chantry or templars the next time they came close to a major settlement. At that point Lhiannon could possibly have an army of templars tracking her, Grey Warden or not. The Chantry was prickly about such things, after all.

Since Redcliffe was only a few days away, the Chantry could find out as soon as then. If the templars succeeded in eliminating Lhiannon, Loghain doubted the armies of Ferelden would follow him against the darkspawn, considering recent events. They would probably follow Alistair, but as Calenhad's heir, many of the nobles would demand he remain out of the fighting. If Lhiannon knew swordcraft, not only would she be able to handle herself against the templars, it could also come in handy in their quest to defeat the Blight. Loghain grinned to himself; wouldn't the templars be surprised to see a mage not only wielding a sword, but wielding it proficiently. The irony of it nearly made Loghain laugh out loud.

The clacking of the horses' hooves and the rustling of the wind in the trees had been the only sound around them for some time. Loghain was riding just ahead of Lhiannon, head shifting slightly from side to side watching for anything that might come into their path.

"Loghain…" Lhiannon began cautiously, gently nudging her horse forward to walk beside his.

"Did you want something?" Loghain asked, scanning the path ahead.

"What _would_ you have done, had you won the civil war?"

Loghain shrugged, giving her a sideways glance. "That would have depended on how much of Ferelden was left after the fact. The border with Orlais would have been secured first. Once that was complete, we would have regrouped and pushed the darkspawn back to the Wilds."

"But how could you afford to divide our forces? Fighting a war on two fronts is difficult, at best."

"We couldn't," Loghain said simply. "Especially after Ostagar." He sighed heavily before he continued. "It seemed necessary at the time. Perhaps I was wrong. The Blight would have raged unchecked until the border was secure. Lothering would have been just one town out of many."

They grew quiet again as they rode and in the distance they could see smoke rising in a narrow ribbon. They were nearing Flemeth's hut and the rest of their companions.

"And King Maric? The tales have the two of you as inseparable."

Loghain looked down at the reins he held in his hands, contemplating her question. "He was my friend," he said slowly, his voice quiet. "If he had wanted to conquer the Fade itself, I would have gladly led the charge." Time supposedly healed all wounds, but the scar covering the wound of Maric's death was easily torn away even now. He took his hand and gently pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his grief down. It always seemed to come roaring back at the most inopportune time.

"He was a great king, but what made him so?"

Loghain gave a small, sad smile. "He could inspire such devotion that men would gladly lay down their lives for him. I was one of them. My father was one of them. Maric had knighted him just before he died. My father was so _proud_." Loghain paused again and swallowed thickly. "Maric was a remarkable man."

"He certainly was," Lhiannon agreed. "Ferelden will never be the same." They rounded a bend in the road as she spoke and the roof of the hut came into view. "Well, here we are." Lhiannon sighed. "We should probably head in."

"Go on ahead," Loghain said, "I'll follow along shortly."

Lhiannon nodded. She turned and walked her horse toward the hut, calling out a greeting as she approached it. Loghain watched her go, wondering what she had done to him to make him be so open with her. He rarely opened up to anyone and yet, he found it so very easy to do with her; too easy, in fact. He cursed himself a fool.

* * *

Loghain sat at the fire not long after he and Lhiannon had returned, occasionally watching as Leliana and Lhiannon played a lawn game. They were rolling several small colored balls toward a single white one, gaining points with the closest ball. Zevran was alternately cheering and bantering with them as they played. There was an easy camaraderie between the three, a close friendship formed from the shared horrors of the Blight.

Loghain was cleaning and polishing his silverite armor, letting his mind wander as he did so. He occasionally looked up as he heard laughter from the game. As he did so, he found himself looking at Lhiannon more and more. There were things about her that unnerved him, yet excited him at the same time. In some ways, she reminded him of Rowan. Lhiannon had boldly put herself between Flemeth and her companions to protect them; that greatly impressed Loghain. Mages were not known to put themselves directly in danger, instead preferring to stay off to the sides. Rowan also would throw herself into danger to protect others; like the time she came to reinforce a hopelessly outnumbered Loghain and his men on a dead end bluff.

Rowan was a subject that was always at the back of Loghain's mind, tickling his consciousness on a regular basis of late. He and Rowan had been two halves of the same soul. He had loved her, despite knowing she had been Maric's betrothed since her birth. When the time came that Maric needed her, it was Loghain who urged Rowan to go to him and be the Queen she was meant to be. His heart had broken, certain he would love no other like her. He had avoided Denerim for all those years because he could not bear the thought of seeing her with Maric as _Maric's _wife. She should have been _his_.

Then Rowan died. Not long after her death, rumors began to arrive in Gwaren that King Maric would soon join her, so great was his grief. Loghain had begun to fear the worst when Sister Ailis had sent word to Gwaren, begging him to come to Denerim with all haste. Loghain was not deaf to Sister Ailis' pleas, leaving for Denerim the very day her message arrived. Together, he and Maric had mourned Rowan. After that, he spent more and more time with Maric in Denerim.

Loghain had been fond of his wife in Gwaren; how could he not be? She was the perfect teyrn's wife, skilled in the matters surrounding a noble house. She made everyone feel important, whereas Loghain made them ill at ease. When he was away from Gwaren she had managed the teyrnir well, most likely better than he could have. After all, he had been a farmer and a soldier; when Maric made him teyrn, he knew nothing of running a noble house. She had also given him Anora, whom he prized over all else. Though his wife was everything he could have asked for, he had not loved her—truth be told. Cared for and fond of, yes; but love? When she died, he could not mourn her like Rowan and that made him feel guilty. She had deserved more but he had been unable to give it.

After his wife died, it seemed the pyre was barely cold when every nobleman in Ferelden was trying to force his daughter on him. Even worse were the widows of the noblemen; throwing themselves at him to better their positions within the nobility. Loghain rejected them all, appalled by their shallowness and lack of decorum. If that was how women brought up in noble houses were, he wanted no part of them. He had come to the conclusion that he would be alone for the rest of his life and he had accepted it long ago. Even Maric had stopped badgering him about taking a wife again.

Loghain brought himself back to the moment, noticing that he had polished the same spot on his breastplate for several minutes. _Idiot,_ he admonished himself, moving to a different spot on the metal. _I should hate her for besting me at the Landsmeet, humiliating me in front of those bloody nobles—and Anora. I should hate her for making me go through the Joining instead of giving me an honorable death. But I cannot; Maker help me, it's like meeting Maric all over again and falling for his charms. _

_It's almost like Rowan again, and I think that's worse._

_

* * *

_

The party departed Flemeth's the hut the next morning and began traveling toward Redcliffe and the eventual battle with the horde. They had traveled for part of the day on horseback when Lhiannon decided that she would rather walk on her own two feet for awhile. Her backside was aching from all the time spent on the horses recently. She wanted to work the kinks out of her stiff legs and a good walk through the countryside sounded ideal to her. She was walking at the front of the group when movement from her right side caught her eye. She turned to find Loghain walking in step beside her, leading his own horse behind him.

"You're a brave man to leave Wynne at your back," she commented nonchalantly.

"And why is that?"

Lhiannon turned and looked up at Loghain with a humorous glint in her eye. "You know she would love to hide a dagger in your back."

"I have every confidence that you shall watch my back then," Loghain said, his face unreadable.

"Watching your back?" Lhiannon asked, a smirk beginning to spread across her face. "I could think of worse things I may well be doing."

"Indeed? Such as?"

Lhiannon shrugged her shoulders. "I could be healing you after I pulled the dagger out of your back."

Loghain kept his face straight. "Your healing skills would without doubt be worse than the dagger."

"Hey now," she complained, the humor evident in her voice. "That hurt."

"Then I suggest a healing spell. Perhaps Morrigan can help you with that."

Lhiannon turned to him again and cocked her head. "Oh, so Morrigan's healing is so much better than mine?"

Loghain looked down at her from the corner of his eye, his eyebrow raised and a smirk playing across his face. Lhiannon snorted and playfully slapped his armored forearm with her hand. He chuckled and returned his gaze to the road ahead. They walked in companionable silence for several minutes, side by side as friends would. The thought made her giggle; who would ever have predicted that Lhiannon Amell and Loghain Mac Tir would become friendly after everything that had happened over the last few months? She never would have guessed it, yet here they were.

"Something amusing?" Loghain asked.

"I was thinking about all that has happened in recent months."

"Such as?"

"Well, would _you_ have guessed that we would both be Grey Wardens fighting on the same side?"

Loghain scoffed, turning to look at her with a raised brow. "Certainly not I. The archdemon would do well to fear us however."

"The strapping warrior and diminutive mage; bane of darkspawn and archdemons everywhere."

"You certainly know how to handle a dagger well enough," Loghain said. "When we make camp tonight, you shall have your first lesson fighting with a sword."

Lhiannon snickered like a schoolgirl; clearly Zevran was a bad influence on her. Loghain heard her snickering and scoffed in exasperation. "Maker help me. Must you act so childish?"

"I'm sorry," Lhiannon giggled, raising a hand to her face. "It just struck me funny."

"So glad I can amuse you," he drawled irritably. "Do you want training or not?"

"Of course I do," Lhiannon answered. "I shall endeavor to be more serious."

* * *

Lhiannon was standing outside their camp, wearing new elven armor and holding a cheap iron sword. Bodahn had met with another dwarven merchant while Lhiannon and Loghain were at Ostagar, trading supplies and bringing back a fine set of armor for Lhiannon. Bodahn explained that the armor was enchanted and had been crafted for mages. It had a greenish hue, intricate designs of vines and leaves etched into the arcane metal. She found that it was very fine indeed, unlike the sword she held. It was one she had found on their journey and would occasionally take practice swings with in camp. She swung at a sparring dummy that Bodahn had dug out of his cart for her to use. When the sword landed on the dummy, it shook in such a way that it sent an unpleasant pins and needles sensation through her hand and into her arm.

"Maker's breath, that is so sodding annoying," she grumbled, dropping the sword and shaking her hand to rid it of the pins and needles. As the feeling come back into her hand, she heard Loghain's approaching footsteps. His brow furrowed as he saw her shaking her hand. Lhiannon scoffed and indicated the sword on the ground. "That bloody thing sends the most annoying pins and needles sensation up my arm whenever I use it."

Loghain held his hand out to her. "May I see your blade?" Lhiannon picked up the sword and handed it to him, hilt first. He took it and stepped back, giving the blade a few practiced swings. He then held it out, peering down its length with an experienced eye. The weapon was cheaply made and heavy in his hand. The iron used to forge the sword was of poor quality.

"Your sword is terribly unbalanced. This is probably why it feels so awkward in your hand. It is also warped." He looked at Lhiannon questioningly. "Where did you get this sorry thing?"

Lhiannon shrugged. "It was in some old ruins; I don't remember where. We would sometimes pick up the weapons we found to sell or keep as spares."

"Hold here a moment. I will get you an appropriate sword to practice with." Loghain turned and walked back toward the camp, leaving Lhiannon to massage her hand. After a few minutes, she heard Loghain returning, a small sword in hand.

"This silverite sword is much more appropriate for you. It is lighter than this monstrosity, so you won't have to use so much force to swing it. It is also more evenly balanced." He handed it to her, hilt first. Lhiannon took the sword and gave it a small swing.

"It _is_ lighter," she exclaimed. "I can feel the difference. It seems to flow through the air much easier. Where did we have this sword at?"

"It's mine," Loghain said. "I always carry an extra sword."

Lhiannon moved to hand it back to him. "I wouldn't want to ruin your sword in practice. Maybe we should find a different one. I'm sure there's one in camp…"

"No," Loghain said, holding up his hand to stop her. "If you wish to learn how to wield a sword, you must work with a proper weapon. We do not have the luxury of time. You need to learn quickly and it will be done best with a quality weapon."

She nodded. "Let's begin then."

"You must learn first how to draw your sword quickly. If you can draw faster than your opponent, you will have an edge at the first strike."

Lhiannon sheathed the sword in its scabbard, leaving her hand on the hilt. Loghain nodded and she tried to pull the sword out as fast as she could, knocking it about in the scabbard before finally pulling it out. By this time, Loghain had produced his hunting dagger from his boot and held to her throat. Lhiannon looked down at it warily, then looked at Loghain.

"You see?" he began. "You didn't pull it fast enough and that gave me an advantage. First, focus on pulling the sword out slowly and smoothly to get a feel for it. Once you are comfortable with that, then start pulling it faster." She worked on that for a while before Loghain moved on to the next concept.

"When you are in battle, keep your sword close to your body when you parry attacks and keep your feet apart so you can move quickly. Your opponents will most likely be much larger than you. You need to be faster and learn to anticipate their moves." He pulled his own sword from its scabbard and brandished it in front of him, showing her a proper stance; Lhiannon mimicked it.

"Your sword needs to be an extension of you. Make it do your bidding. Feel how it moves with you when you use it." Loghain took a swing at her and Lhiannon held her sword well out in front of her to deflect the blow. Though Loghain did not swing at her hard, the sword fell from her hands onto the ground. Lhiannon scowled, bending down to pick it up.

"Don't hold your sword so far out in front of you. Keep it closer to your body when you parry." Loghain swung at her again and again the sword fell from her hands, landing on the ground. She picked it up to try again. This time she held the sword closer still and was able to deflect his blow. The sword shook in her hands, the shock traveling up her arms and leaving the pins and needles sensation in its wake. Loghain nodded his approval, swinging his sword again and again, Lhiannon's parries becoming more confident. Suddenly, something flickered in her eyes and when Loghain next swung his sword, Lhiannon not only parried it, but with a deft flick of her wrist knocked his sword from his hand and into the dirt. His eyes narrowed at her as if he could not believe she had just disarmed him so easily. She looked at the sword in her hands, an astonished look on her face as well.

"Impressive," Loghain finally admitted, reaching down to pick up his sword. "How did you think to do that?"

Lhiannon shook her head. "I don't know exactly. It's as if I _remembered_ how to do it."

"How much do you think you can 'remember'?" he asked her warily. This whole entity in a bottle business was a little outside his comfort zone, but if it helped in the battle against the Blight, he would learn to live with it.

"I'm not sure," she said, shaking her head. "Let's find out."

They both dropped into fighting stances and Loghain swung his sword at her, holding back. She easily parried his blow and returned with a swing of her own. Loghain parried her blow without difficulty, but was surprised at the strength behind it. _She must be channeling her magic_, he thought.

They circled each other in a dance that could bring death to their enemies. Both were growing heated during the exchange and not all was from the physical exertion. Each had been watching the body of the other, trying to anticipate the next move while admiring the other's form. The air was heavy with their sweat and pheromones; both unconsciously found themselves responding. Their hearts pounded in their chests and the taint in their blood roared with their need. Lhiannon lunged at him swinging; Loghain parried her blow and counterattacked. Back and forth they went for several minutes, their breathing becoming more ragged as their _need_ grew. She lithely sidestepped one of his blows and brought her sword around to attack. The sword landed in a gap in Loghain's armor, cutting into his arm and he hissed in pain.

"Maker's breath, Loghain! Are you all right?" Lhiannon sheathed her sword and quickly moved to his side, trying to examine the deep cut on his arm.

"It's nothing," he grumbled, attempting to pull his arm away so he could examine the injury for himself. She had an iron grip on his arm however and quickly peeled off the piece of armor blocking the wound. The cut was deep, slicing across the inside of his elbow and pumping bright blood with every beat of his heart. Before he could pull back, she had drawn the hem of her shirt out from under her armor and wiped the blood away. She began whispering a healing spell, gently running a finger across the cut as it began to heal, her eyes going far away. Her finger began to move slower, stroking his skin tenderly and he could feel the heat beginning to surge within him. Gooseflesh appeared on his skin and he shuddered beneath her touch.

"Enough," he told her firmly, his voice husky. _Maker's breath woman!_ He moved to pull his arm away and she finally released his arm, stepping back. She blinked rapidly and her face immediately flushed.

"I think we've sparred enough for today," she said nervously. She quickly turned and returned to camp, crawling into her tent to try and calm her racing heart. She had not meant to cut Loghain's arm as they sparred; that was a lucky strike. She was also not prepared for how healing Loghain's arm caused the need within her to build into a nearly maddening crescendo. She remembered the blood pounding in her ears and how her touch brought gooseflesh along his arm. Running her finger over his skin had felt so _good… _

"Surely I'm mad to be thinking such thoughts," she sighed. "Too much lyrium."

Loghain also returned to his tent after the sparring session, resting on his bedroll. Lhiannon had progressed amazingly fast with the help of her emerging arcane warrior abilities. She probably would not master the little subtleties of swordsmanship, but he was certain that she would be more than capable with a sword.

They had very nearly worked themselves into a frenzy during the training session. The heat of battle gave way to heat of a different sort near the end. He had felt himself become aroused by her closeness, her movements, and Andraste's blood even her _smell_…

"Idiot," he murmured to himself, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. He had only traveled with Lhiannon for a short time and while he was warming to her, they had been adversaries not long ago and it would be best to remember that. He found that it was becoming far too easy for him to drop his defenses with her, to let her see the _real_ Loghain buried under years of bitterness and isolation. The thought was disconcerting.

But, oh, how she made him feel _young_ again.

* * *

The companions continued northwest out of the Wilds toward Redcliffe. Neither Lhiannon nor Loghain had any sense of the archdemon's arrival just yet, but both felt time was growing short. Their dreams had become darker of late and any sort of sleep a luxury. Both Grey Wardens drank Wynne's tea laced with wine every night now in hopes of dreamless sleep, but they were of little benefit. Both Lhiannon and Loghain had dark circles under their eyes and were often short with the others. They hoped the battle would be over soon; neither one knew how much longer they would be able to endure the dreams.

The night before they arrived in Redcliffe, the dreams had been so violent they had woken Lhiannon out of a deep sleep and left her shaking and terrified. She felt as if the tent was closing in on her; she had to get out. Now. Trying to hold the looming terror at bay, she threw on a longshirt and trousers and nearly fell as she stumbled out of her tent in her haste to get outside. She caught herself before she fell and looked about her, wide-eyed and panicky, as if she did not quite know where she was. Loghain and Sten had been on watch and both turned to regard her as she appeared.

"Kadan?" Sten asked quietly. Lhiannon thought she heard concern in his voice. Loghain could sense her roiling emotions. She was like a panicked, cornered animal. Terror, despair, and exhaustion all fought for dominance within her.

Lhiannon was still wide-eyed and not quite herself just yet. She spotted a silver shield propped up against one of their packs and went to regard herself in it. She was shocked at her appearance. Her hair was wild and tangled about her face as if she were trying to pull it out. Dark circles ringed her reddened eyes and her skin was pale except for two bright red splotches of color at her cheekbones.

"Andraste's bleeding heart, I look like the ass end of a genlock," she said despairingly, running her fingers through her tangled hair to try and make something of it. She went and sat beside the fire, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her dream had left a lingering coldness within her; she sat so close to the fire she could feel her skin baking on one side while remaining stone cold on the other. Her eyes darted everywhere, as if looking for unseen predators to come rushing at them. Eventually, her features began to calm and her breathing became more relaxed. She looked at Loghain, who was pointedly looking into the fire, the trees, and anywhere but directly at her. Confused, she returned her gaze to the fire.

Sten eventually rose and began to walk the perimeter of the camp, scanning for any creatures that may be trying to come close. He thought that perhaps Lhiannon's nightmare was the result of darkspawn in the area and he wanted to make sure they stayed away. The Wardens needed as much rest as they could find and he was determined to give it to them if he could.

Loghain continued to pointedly stare into the fire. "Your dream; it was particularly bad?"

Lhiannon nodded slowly. "There were demons in it too. What they were doing was…unspeakable." She sighed and to Loghain it sounded profoundly sad. "I just don't know how much longer I can go on."

They were both silent for a time, each lost in their own thoughts or in the glow of the fire. "I never told you how my magical abilities manifested," Lhiannon said, breaking the silence.

"No, you did not."

Lhiannon sighed, her chest hitching as if she were forcing back sobs. She ran her hand through her mussed hair, searching for the words to begin. "My parents were fanatical Andrastians. We lived in a small community, a cult. They wanted me to be a chanter and forced me to memorize passages from the Chant of Light every day. If I didn't memorize them correctly, I'd be punished. I didn't want to be a chanter, or a lay sister, or a priest for that matter. I wanted to live my own life away from the Chantry, so I didn't try too hard to memorize the Chant. Needless to say, I was punished a lot.

"We lived on a small farm and I was in the barn taking care of the animals one day when my father came in with his horse and demanded I recite the day's passages to him. I told him that I had been working in the barn all day and hadn't had time to memorize them. I was a teen and moody like they can be and my father was furious at my response. He had taken the reins off his horse and started beating me with them…" Her voice began to trail off and her eyes looked far away.

Loghain finally looked at her and held up a hand. "Lhiannon, stop. You don't have to continue."

Lhiannon shook her head. "No, it's all right." She took a couple of deep breaths before she began again. "My father whipped me until I collapsed onto the dirt floor. All I wanted him to do was stop and for the burning pain to stop. I remember thinking, "stop" and "cold", and the next thing I knew, the reins weren't hitting me anymore. I looked up and saw my father literally frozen to the ground. He was covered in frost. I screamed and that broke my concentration. He immediately thawed out. When he did, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and dragged me to the Chantry. Literally dragged me across the ground. He dropped me in front of a templar there, cursing me and disowning me. The templar was also a fanatic and tied my hands together in front of me as he took me to Kinloch Hold. He told me I was dangerous and that if I even thought of casting a spell on him, he would kill me and bury me out in the wilderness where no one would find me. No one would miss a stupid mage."

Loghain's eyes were back on the fire, contemplating what Lhiannon had just told him. She was forced to grow up too young, much like he had to after the Orlesians raped and murdered his mother and forced him and his father off their land. He was unsure what to say to her, so he told her the only thing he could. "I'm sorry, Lhiannon."

Lhiannon's dream still tugged at her consciousness. It was by far one of the most disturbing she had endured since becoming a Grey Warden. Cities and towns across Ferelden were in flames. Darkspawn were hauling screaming captives underground for Maker knew what purpose. The corruption spread across the Bannorn like a plague. Where the darkspawn had ravaged, the Veil had worn thin and allowed all manner of demons to cross. They began to overrun Ferelden and destroy what the darkspawn did not. She could still see the death and destruction in her mind's eye as if they had really happened. Or would happen.

"I'm scared, Loghain."

Loghain tore his eyes away from the fire and looked into Lhiannon's. They were brimmed with tears and as he watched one of them rolled down her cheek. The light from the fire caught it and it glimmered as it fell. She seemed so vulnerable right now. This was the woman that had defeated him in a duel? She had been so sure of herself at the Landsmeet; so firm in her convictions and belief that _she was right. _The confidence had rolled off her in almost palpable waves. She could have told the entire Landsmeet that fire was cold and everyone there would have believed her; he probably would have believed her. It was so unlike the woman before him now, confessing her fear and doubt.

Part of him wanted to go to her, but he was hesitant. If he failed to close himself off now, he was unsure he would be able to later. He would be a fool if he did not stop this madness now. It was becoming far too easy to open himself to her.

"I know," he said, his voice comforting. _Maker's breath, what are you doing_, he thought irritability to himself.

"You do?"

"I would be lying if I said I never felt fear before a battle." He paused, wondering yet again what she had done to him to get past the barriers he worked so hard to build and keep in place. He was definitely a fool.

"What if we can't stop the Blight? What if we can't save Ferelden?"

Loghain was feeling distinctly troubled. He was not the kind of person who others looked to for reassurance, quite the opposite in fact. Others felt uncomfortable around him and he preferred it that way. He rarely allowed anyone to get close to him. What troubled him was that he found himself _wanting_ to reassure her, to assuage her fears and tell her everything would be fine, even if he himself doubted it. He felt himself being drawn to her despite his mind screaming at him to stop, to put up the walls inside and not let her through. He found himself unable to stop however as he rose from his position by the fire and moved to Lhiannon's side, sitting down next to her. He stared into the fire, because staring at her would probably rend asunder all the barriers he tried so hard to keep in place. The barriers that he was still trying to keep in place, though the effort was looking more and more futile by the second.

"We will do what we must and have faith that we can see our duty through to the end," he told her, staring intently into the fire and trying to ignore just how close to her he was. He could feel her body heat next to him; could almost feel the sparks jumping between them. Just a slight movement to the side and he would be touching her.

He was completely mad.

Lhiannon brushed her tears away with a shaky hand and wiped them on her longshirt, leaving a small wet spot on the fabric. Hesitantly, Loghain turned to look at her. _Maker's breath, but she is beautiful. _When he did, he found that his hand had rose to her face and brushed a small lock of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, the tips of his fingers brushing her skin as they passed. They lingered there and then followed the curve of her ear, making her golden earrings chime softly as they touched each other. His fingers continued their slow, gentle movement past her ear, tracing the outline of her jaw just below it.

"You are stronger than you think," he told her as his fingers stopped near her chin.

She offered him a small smile and he found himself returning it, his mind still screaming ineffectually at him to stop, but his body ignoring it. Even his own hand had betrayed him. He slowly pulled his hand away, resting it on his leg. She moved her hand to rest on top of his and he felt her fingers curl around it. He felt his hand squeeze in response.

"Thank you," she said softly.

After a moment, she pulled her hand away from his and rose to go back to her tent. He could feel his barriers crumbling to dust and knew trying to stop them would be all but impossible.

Off in the distance, Morrigan stood in her small campsite, watching Loghain and Lhiannon with great interest. So, the standoffish warrior had developed a soft spot for his fellow Grey Warden. _Interesting_, she thought, running her fingers over her grimoire. This was something she was going to have to watch _very_ closely.

* * *

_A/N part 2: Next stop...Redcliffe._

_Thanks again to everyone who is following along! I appreciate the support and the comments!  
_


	10. Inevitable Fate

As they neared Redcliffe, the Grey Wardens and their companions spotted the sun's reflection gleaming brightly on the surface of Lake Calenhad. They would be at the town's border before too long now. But as they approached the edge of the town, both Lhiannon and Loghain suddenly stopped short and looked at each other. They could see their own anxiety reflected in the other's eyes.

"Something is definitely wrong here," Lhiannon said, dread settling into her stomach and tying it in knots. The taint in her blood began to seethe within her.

"Darkspawn," Loghain agreed as he pulled his sword from its scabbard and settled his shield on his arm.

Looking into the sky, they saw an ominous glow reflected in the clouds and smoke rolling over the lake, like fires were burning out of control in the town. They quickly gathered the rest of their companions and ran toward Redcliffe at top speed, weapons drawn. When they reached a high vantage point above the heart of the town, they could see fires burning everywhere; even the chantry was on fire. They could see where people had been hanged from the eaves of buildings and branches of trees. As they began to hurry down the main road into Redcliffe, they were greeted at the edge of town by darkspawn. They were everywhere. Some of the Arl's men were fighting the darkspawn in the streets, wave after wave of the creatures falling upon them at every turn.

"Great, ogres. Sodding wonderful." Oghren sighed, settling his heavy hammer in his hands.

"And don't forget the emissaries, my drunken friend," Zevran quipped. "It certainly isn't a Blight without them."

They fought their way through the village, finding darkspawn at every turn. Great masses of them seemed to be coming from everywhere. The Arl's men fought amongst them and Lhiannon cringed whenever one fell victim to the darkspawn. There would be a pause in battle and they would think the darkspawn were gone, but then another wave would come. Then another. After what seemed like hours of fighting, the number of darkspawn began to dwindle and eventually stopped. They searched the streets and alleys and found no more of the creatures, yet the taint still seethed within Lhiannon and Loghain. All of the companions were heavily wounded. Wynne was casting as many healing spells as she could and health flasks and poultices were passed around.

Lhiannon turned toward Loghain, her hair plastered to her head and armor smeared with blood and ichor. "Are you all right? Do you sense any other darkspawn? I think there are more here, but I want a second opinion."

Loghain was breathing heavily, his armor likewise covered in ichor. "I'm fine," he reassured her. He paused, closing his eyes and becoming still for a moment. "I agree," he said, opening his eyes again and looking around. "I feel there are more darkspawn in the area."

Lhiannon looked up at the castle on the hill above them, a look of grim determination on her face. "Then let's get to the castle and see if Arl Eamon and the others are all right."

When they arrived at the castle, there were indeed more darkspawn there. A number of the Arl's knights were engaged in battle with them at the castle steps, savagely fighting the creatures in a desperate attempt to keep them out of the castle. Several of the knights had already fallen victim to the darkspawn attack and the rest were very near to being overrun. Lhiannon and her companions ran into the courtyard to help the knights. It was not long before the remaining darkspawn were defeated, their ichor seeping into the ground. They were preparing to sheathe their weapons when a roar filled the air from the causeway. Another ogre was approaching at a run, murder in its eyes. It launched itself at Loghain, who happened to be standing closest to it, knocking him down and landing on top of him, beating him with its meaty fists. Loghain roared in anger and tried to kick the beast off him to no avail.

Zevran had quickly flanked the great beast, leaping onto the ogre's back and plunging his daggers to the hilt in its hide. The roar of outrage from the beast was nearly deafening and it tried to claw and beat at the source of its pain. Zevran quickly pulled his daggers out and jumped off the creature's back, landing solidly on the ground behind it. The ogre turned to face this new threat, swinging its fists wildly. Zevran lithely danced away from it, having narrowly missed being stuck by the ogre's fists. Lhiannon raised her staff and chanted a spell of fire, hitting the beast in the center of its back with a large ball of flame. It roared again, a great smoking wound opening on its back and filling the air with the foul stench of roasting flesh.

By this time, Loghain had picked himself up off the ground and launched himself at the ogre, burying his longsword into the middle of the blackened spot on its back. The ogre howled in outrage and pain, trying to pull Loghain and the sword from its back. Loghain held on for dear life for a moment before being shaken off and tumbling to the ground. His head smacked the hard packed dirt, causing his vision to blur and bright stars to swim in his eyes. The ogre staggered forward another step, then fell forward and was still. Zevran cautiously approached the ogre and slit its throat, ichor pouring forth and saturating the ground beneath it. "You can never be too careful," he panted, wiping his blades on the nearby grass in an attempt to clean them..

Lhiannon rushed forward and crouched at Loghain's side, helping him to sit up. She shook off one of her gauntlets and placed her fingertips on his cheek, murmuring a healing spell as she touched him. She could have just used her staff or her hands to aim it at him, but she found that she had an irrational urge to touch Loghain's skin just then. She had to _feel _that he was all right. She felt the softness of his braided lock and the scratch of stubble against her fingers. _How positively naughty of me_, she giggled to herself. _I'm a bad girl_. Loghain caught a flicker through the taint and looked at her, his brows furrowed.

"Are you all right?" she asked, suddenly feeling out of breath, and not just from the battle.

He murmured low to her so the others could not hear, irritation in his voice. "Perhaps you should ask yourself that question." He stood quickly, breaking the touch on his cheek. A shadow crossed over his face. "Thank you."

Lhiannon nodded, picking up her gauntlet and putting it back on. Loghain offered his hand to help her up, which she accepted. From the steps of the castle, a guard shouted out to her and waved. "My Lady!" She turned toward the voice and ran up the stairs, the pounding footsteps of her companions right behind her. She stopped in front of the guard, who was visibly relieved to see her.

"My Lady, I was told to watch for your arrival. Your fellow Grey Warden Riordan arrived shortly before the darkspawn did. He has urgent news for you. I shall take you to the hall; they are waiting for you there." He crisply turned and set an urgent pace into the hall, Lhiannon and the others following close behind.

When they arrived, Riordan, Arl Eamon, and Bann Teagan were waiting for them, all dressed in their heavy armor and weapons at their sides. A number of guards had been posted near the entrance, there no doubt to fight off any darkspawn that had succeeded in breaching the castle. Lhiannon approached the group and nodded to them, each nodding to her in return.

"Gentlemen, I'm glad to see you well. What news do you have?"

It was Riordan who answered first. "I am relieved to see that you and your companions arrived unharmed. The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe today were somewhat few in number. We assumed that the horde was marching this way, but unfortunately that is not true."

"Not true?" Lhiannon asked, her eyes narrowing and a look of confusion on her face. "If they're not marching here, then where _are_ they marching?"

Arl Eamon spoke next, his voice grim. "Riordan tells us that the bulk of the horde is not heading here but toward Denerim itself." There were several gasps from behind Lhiannon as the news sank in.

"Denerim? How far away are they?" Loghain asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"Perhaps two days," Eamon replied sadly. He avoided looking into Loghain's eyes, knowing that all he would see was anger and rage.

"How certain are you that they are headed toward the capital?" Lhiannon asked, the dread settling deep in her stomach and tying it in knots. _All those people…_

"I managed to get close enough to the horde so I could "listen in", if you please. I'm quite certain," Riordan stated with conviction.

Lhiannon shook her head and began to pace in front of the men, clearly agitated. "Why then did we think they were headed to Redcliffe? That would have been an important piece of information to have before we even left Denerim."

"I agree," Loghain growled angrily. "Why then did we leave Denerim only to double back? The capital is far too tempting a target for any enemy to ignore. Denerim should not have been left on its own."

"The darkspawn line is very wide and many of them roam away from the main horde," Riordan explained, holding up his hands to calm the growing tension. "Most of the darkspawn have been spotted here in the west, which is why we thought there were headed here." He paused, his face turning grim. "I am afraid there is another piece of news that is of dire concern. The archdemon has finally shown itself. It travels at the head of the horde."

"Maker's breath," Lhiannon sighed, her hand raised to her mouth and a chill racing down her spine. _It's here_.

Loghain bristled angrily, glaring accusingly at Riordan. "There is no way we can reach Denerim in two days time. It is too far."

"That is why we must begin a forced march to Denerim immediately with what soldiers we have," Eamon explained. "We must defend Denerim at all costs."

Lhiannon stopped pacing and pointed at the Arl. "It is the archdemon that is most important. It _must_ be defeated. Denerim can be saved if we defeat it."

Riordan nodded his head in agreement. "Only a Grey Warden can defeat the archdemon, so we must go as well."

"Then we march for Denerim and hope the army we've gathered will give us the chance we need to defeat it," Lhiannon stated before turning to the Arl. "How long until you are ready to march?"

"We leave at daybreak. I will give the orders immediately and let you know the moment we are ready to march. I have also sent word the Empress of Orlais asking for help. Hopefully, the Grey Wardens in Orlais will march to our aid. They should be here in about a week, unless she's written Ferelden off and decided to defend the Empire."

Lhiannon could feel Loghain's rising anger through the taint. The last thing he wanted was the damned _Orlesians_ coming to Ferelden. And that _Arl Eamon_ of all people asked them for help? Just opened the doors of Ferelden to them? Rendorn would be turning in his grave. Loghain found the thought sickening. He had had just about enough of Eamon and his meddling. Lhiannon turned to him with a sympathetic glance and held up her hand. Loghain kept his place, a dangerous look on his face. He would deal with the Arl later if he had the chance.

"Then get the army ready," Lhiannon stated. "I won't let the people in Denerim die without giving them a chance." Eamon and Teagan both gave her a short bow, then walked out of the hall. She turned to Riordan. "Exactly how are we to defeat the archdemon?"

Riordan looked at her in astonishment. "You mean you don't know? Of course you wouldn't…you, Loghain, and Alistair are new recruits. Duncan probably wouldn't have expected this…" his voice trailed off and he turned away, looking at the fire burning in the hearth behind him.

"Expected what?" Loghain slowly growled from where he stood behind Lhiannon. She felt the dread rising within her even as Loghain spoke. There was definitely something Riordan was not telling them and whatever it was, it could not be good. Her eyes narrowed at Riordan suspiciously.

Riordan quickly gathered his thoughts and turned to address Lhiannon and Loghain once more. "Come to my room before you turn in for the evening. We have Grey Warden matters to discuss." He bowed and left the room.

Lhiannon turned to Loghain, who was still visibly angry. "I can't believe Eamon called for help from the damned _Orlesians_," he growled menacingly, fists clenched so hard that Lhiannon could hear the metal and leather of his gauntlets squeaking in protest. "He had no business doing so." She put a restraining hand on his chest plate and looked up at him. "Then we'll just have to defeat the archdemon ourselves so they have no reason to come." Loghain grinned. He liked the way she thought.

Lhiannon dropped her hand from his chest. "Loghain, could you please wait here for a few moments? I'd like to ask Arl Eamon about Jowan."

Loghain nodded, "Don't be too long. Our _Orlesian _senior Warden has beckoned us to see him." He did not bother hiding the sarcasm in his voice. "I do not care for his secrecy. He is hiding something; how perfectly _Orlesian_."

"We shall find out what he is hiding soon enough, Loghain," Lhiannon said, turning and walking toward the door the Arl recently departed through. She paused at the doorway and turned back to Loghain. "I have a bad feeling about this."

* * *

Lhiannon stood in the doorway of Arl Eamon's office, knocking on the doorjamb to get his attention. He had been busy shuffling paperwork on his desk. "May I have a word with you, ser?" she asked quietly. The Arl looked up from his desk, indicating that Lhiannon should enter and take a chair across from him. "Of course, Warden. Please come in."

Lhiannon held up her hand. "I will only be a minute. I just wanted to ask you about Jowan. Is he…?"

Arl Eamon paused in his work, a shadow crossing his face. "He yet lives. I will carry out his sentence after the Blight has been dealt with." He stopped, looking at Lhiannon for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

Lhiannon looked the Arl directly in the eye. "I would like to visit him, with your permission." Eamon looked at her warily. She sighed heavily. "Many mages who grow up in the Circle are not close to their blood family. Those of us who have been abandoned by our families find new families among the mages. Jowan has been my friend for a long time; we were very close at the Circle." She paused for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts. "I do not excuse what he has done to you and yours. Yet, he is like family to me."

Arl Eamon sat back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. He sighed, his eyes boring into her. "I normally do not allow such things. However, you are a special case. I will allow it, but the guard will remain."

Lhiannon bowed her head to the Arl as he rose from his desk and walked toward the door. "I understand. Thank you, ser." She moved from the doorway and followed the Arl through the castle to the stairs leading to the basement. Down the dimly lit stairs they traveled, through a narrow hallway and to the heavy, thick wooden door at the end.

"Ser?" Lhiannon asked quietly. "Might I ask one more thing?" Arl Eamon turned to look at her quizzically before nodding. "Yes?" he said.

"When the time comes for Jowan's sentence to be carried out, I would like to be here if at all possible. Will you please let me know?"

The Arl paused, looking away in thought before returning his eyes to Lhiannon. "I'll do what I can." Lhiannon nodded as Eamon raised his hand to knock on the door. He knocked three times and waited. A panel in the door slid open and the eyes of a guard peered out, looking coolly between the two. The panel slid shut and several bolts were heard moving in the door before it finally opened. "My Lord," the guard intoned, bowing toward to Arl Eamon as the door finished its inward swing. The Arl looked at the guard and indicated to Lhiannon. "This is Grey Warden Lhiannon. She has my permission to visit the mage for a short time." Eamon turned to Lhiannon. "I can only allow fifteen minutes, Warden."

"I appreciate it, ser," she nodded, brushing past the guard and entering the room as Arl Eamon turned and mounted the stairs. The guard closed the door behind her, running the bolts back into place. When he finished, he turned and beckoned Lhiannon to follow him, picking up a lantern from a nearby table. The guard led her down the dimly lit passage past cells that were mostly empty. Only a very few were occupied. At the end of the hall, the guard set the lantern on a hook in the wall, then turned to indicate the cell holding Jowan. Lhiannon nodded her thanks to the guard before turning to peer into the cell.

Jowan was lying on a small cot, his manacled wrists connected by a length of chain that ran to a large ring in a nearby wall. The Arl was shrewd all right; he knew keeping a mage's hands bound would prevent them from casting any sort of significant spell.

"Jowan?" Lhiannon called out quietly, wrapping her hands around the bars of the cell. They were cool and she felt an involuntary shiver travel through her. Jowan stirred at the sound of her voice, slowly opening his eyes and sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of them as he did so. He turned to look at her, confusion written in his features. His eyes narrowed, then suddenly went wide with recognition.

"Lhiannon?" he said, not quite believing what he saw.

Lhiannon smiled broadly at him. "Yes," she said, watching as he rose from his cot and hurried to the cell door, dragging the length of chain behind him. He brought his hands up as Lhiannon pushed hers through the bars, grasping his hands in a firm grip.

Jowan was thinner than she remembered, most likely due to his imprisonment. His hair had grown long and several days' worth of stubble covered his face. He wore a simple cotton shirt and trousers, wrinkled and somewhat dingy from being worn for several days without being cleaned. Lhiannon was not completely surprised to see Jowan in this condition; she was sure that if the Arl and Arlessa were so inclined, he would be dressed in little more than his small clothes and looking like an emaciated, wild hermit.

"I can't believe you're here," Jowan smiled at her. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"Are they treating you decently?" Lhiannon asked.

"All things considered, it's been all right," Jowan said quietly. "They keep me fed and allow me to bathe and get clean clothes every few days. I guess it could be worse." He smiled at her, squeezing her hands with a strength that surprised Lhiannon. "Tell me, what has happened since I last saw you?"

"Well, a Landsmeet was called to settle the civil war," Lhiannon began. "I had to duel Teyrn Loghain to settle it."

Jowan gasped. "Andraste's blood! You had to _duel _the Teyrn?"

Lhiannon gave Jowan a small laugh, nodding her head slowly. "Yeah, I did. I won too. I could hardly believe it."

Jowan's deep laughter brought a smile to Lhiannon's face and she found herself laughing with him. "I would have _loved _to see that!" he exclaimed. "What happened next?"

"Instead of executing him, I invoked the Right of Conscription and made Loghain a Grey Warden. Alistair is also going to take his place as King, since he's King Maric's son and heir to the line of Calenhad."

Jowan's laughter died off. He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "I wouldn't have guessed that." He paused for a moment. "And what of the Blight?"

"The Grey Wardens came to Redcliffe thinking the archdemon and the horde would make their final assault here, but they are heading to Denerim instead. I leave with the army in the morning, but I needed to find out about you first."

Jowan leaned down and rested his cheek on Lhiannon's hand. She pulled one of her hands free of his and set it on his head, smoothing the wayward locks with a gentle touch.

"I'm glad you came to see me," he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. "I can go to the Maker a little more peacefully now."

"I asked…" Lhiannon began as she stroked his head, her voice becoming thicker as she spoke. "I asked Arl Eamon to let me know when your…sentence…is to be…carried out." She paused, fighting the lump that had formed in her throat. Tears stung in her eyes but she was determined to be strong for Jowan's sake. "I want to be here for you."

"I would like that," Jowan whispered, closing his eyes and falling silent as Lhiannon continued to smooth his tousled hair.

"Warden!" Arl Eamon's voice called out. "It's time."

Jowan raised his head and took Lhiannon's hands one last time, kissing each one in turn. When he released them, she brought her hands up to the sides of his face, holding it gently. "Maker watch over you, Jowan."

"And you, Lhiannon." He suddenly grinned at her, the sadness in his eyes replaced by a fierce determination. "Give the archdemon hell."

* * *

Lhiannon and Loghain walked through the castle to Riordan's room in the guest wing after eating a quick meal. They had spoken little; both of them preoccupied by whatever Riordan seemed to be hiding from them. Riordan was waiting for them when they arrived, a fire burning in the brazier that lent a warm glow to the room. He gestured to a small seating area near the door. "Ah, Lhiannon, Loghain. Please, sit down. We have much to discuss."

Lhiannon shot a sideways glance at Loghain when Riordan had turned to clear scrolls off the table. Loghain glowered at Riordan. Lhiannon chuckled to herself. Brothers and sister in the Grey Wardens they may be, but Riordan's Orlesian background was of far more interest to Loghain. She could tell he trusted Oghren to quit drinking and join the Chantry more than he trusted Riordan. They pulled the chairs away from the table and sat, waiting for Riordan to finish. After a few moments of shuffling the scrolls around, Riordan joined them at the table, his elbows resting on the surface.

"I had told you before that there were reasons why more Grey Wardens are needed during the battle with the archdemon." Riordan paused and looked at Lhiannon and Loghain in turn. "Do either of you know what happens when an archdemon dies?"

Lhiannon and Loghain looked at each other with confusion, then back to Riordan. She spoke for both of them. "No. Duncan never mentioned that."

Riordan nodded. "I thought as much. Not anyone can kill the archdemon. It must be a Grey Warden. If someone other than a Grey Warden kills the archdemon, its essence will seek out the nearest darkspawn and transform it into an archdemon. This makes the beast nearly immortal. If a Grey Warden delivers the killing blow, the essence will find the taint within them and try to transform it. Where darkspawn are soulless creatures, a Grey Warden is not. The archdemon is unable to possess the Grey Warden." He paused, waiting expectantly for them to make the connection so he would not have to say it out loud.

Lhiannon and Loghain were silent for a moment, their faces bearing confused looks. Slowly, understanding began to dawn on Loghain's face, but it was Lhiannon who spoke first.

"But if the essence cannot possess a Grey Warden…."

Loghain interrupted her. "Both the Warden and archdemon are destroyed." He sat back in his chair, the realization sinking in.

Riordan nodded. "Now you see why we need as many Grey Wardens battling the archdemon as possible. When the battle comes, I should be the one to deliver the killing blow. I am the senior Warden here; my Calling will be coming long before either of you. Should I fail, the task falls to you first, Lhiannon, then to you, Loghain. If we can't defeat the archdemon, then Maker help us all."

Lhiannon's stomach began to turn, her meal quickly souring in her stomach. One of them was going to die. In her darkest heart she secretly hoped it would be Riordan; that was selfish of her and she immediately felt guilty about it. However, she knew that if dying in the service of Ferelden was required of her, she would willingly do it. She knew Loghain would agree. It did not stop the bitter sorrow from nearly overwhelming her though.

* * *

As soon as Lhiannon and Loghain had gone off to speak with Riordan, Morrigan quickly got to work. Grabbing her pack, she went to the room Lhiannon was staying in. She would return here right after the meeting, Morrigan was certain, and she wanted to make sure she spoke with Lhiannon straight away. She opened her pack and pulled out a bowl. It was fashioned from the skull of some creature from the Korcari Wilds, strangely oblong but shallow. She set it on the table and poured water from a flask into it. Adding some herbs and muttering a few words, she peered into the bowl. Morrigan was skilled at scrying, so almost immediately an image of Riordan, Lhiannon, and Loghain appeared in the water. She could even hear their voices within her mind. Morrigan's mouth turned upward in a sneer. Skilled indeed.

Riordan was telling them about how an archdemon was killed. Morrigan raised her eyebrows in slight surprise; Flemeth was right after all. Flemeth had told Morrigan many half-truths over the years, but what she heard from Riordan confirmed both what Flemeth told her before leaving the Wilds and what she read in the grimoire. A Grey Warden would be sacrificed in killing the archdemon. Morrigan waved her hand over the bowl and the imaged faded. She pulled the grimoire out of her pack and turned to a page she had marked with a strip of vellum. It was a ritual born of old magic that would both save the Warden and complete Flemeth's task at the same time. Morrigan smiled; the old ways would be preserved after all. Though she had spent a great deal of time studying the ritual—she had the words and movements to it all but memorized—it never hurt to review it again.

It was a few minutes later when Morrigan heard footsteps and low voices in the hall. Loghain and Lhiannon. They paused for a moment outside Loghain's room. Morrigan strained to hear them from where she was standing near the fireplace but she was unable to discern what they were discussing. A minute later, the door to the room opened and Lhiannon entered. Morrigan turned to face her and was shocked at what she saw. Lhiannon looked like she was going to fall to pieces, her face pale and full of sorrow.

"Morrigan," Lhiannon choked out, startled to see Morrigan standing there and trying to bring composure to her face. "What in the Maker's name are you doing here?"

"I am here to help you," Morrigan said quietly. "I know what happens when an archdemon dies. Flemeth told me."

Lhiannon stared at her, disbelieving. Morrigan watched as Lhiannon's hands closed into tightly clenched fists. "Why didn't you tell me?" she growled through gritted teeth.

Morrigan spread her hands in front of her. "Would you have believed me if I did? I think not. What if I told you there was a way to avoid having a Grey Warden die? The loop in your hole, so to speak."

Lhiannon looked at her suspiciously. "How?" she asked guardedly.

"There is a ritual. 'Tis old magic; from long before the Circle was ever born. A way to capture the essence of the old god without a Grey Warden dying in the process."

"Old magic," Lhiannon's voice trailed off, questioning.

Morrigan began to play with a candle that was lit on the fireplace mantle. She would extinguish and relight the flame with a flick of her wrist. "T'was the reason Flemeth sent me with you. The ritual requires that I be impregnated by a Grey Warden. Tonight. When the archdemon dies, it will seek out the child like a beacon. At this stage, the child can absorb the taint and neutralize it, leaving behind the untainted soul of an old god."

Lhiannon paused, not quite believing what she was hearing. She paced for a moment, mulling over what Morrigan had just told her. "Wait, Morrigan. I don't understand. A child? It will be tainted! Even if this does happen, won't the child be destroyed when the archdemon's essence passes to it?"

"No, it won't be harmed or destroyed. It will be changed, but it is hardly a child at that point." Morrigan turned to look Lhiannon directly in her eyes, pointing her finger for emphasis. "It _wil__l_ work, and it _will_ save your life." Morrigan paused, cocking her head slightly as she looked at Lhiannon. "You will, however, have to convince Loghain to lay with me tonight."

"_What?_" Lhiannon spat, her face twisted in disbelief. "Loghain would never agree to do that! Why not Riordan?"

"No," Morrigan insisted. "It has to be with someone who was recently made a Grey Warden. It obviously can't be you and that fool Alistair is, thankfully, nowhere close. It has to be Loghain. Order him, if you have to."

Lhiannon stopped her pacing and whirled about to face Morrigan. "Are you _mad_? I can't order Loghain do to _that!"_

"Then plead. Sway. Beg. Cajole. Whatever word you wish to use, just get him to do it."

Lhiannon looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Let's say for the sake of argument I convince Loghain to lay with you tonight. What happens afterward?"

"I will take the child and disappear to raise it as I see fit. You will not follow me. _Ever_." Morrigan was absolutely adamant. "You must decide, Lhiannon, if 'tis a path you wish to take. I know you have feelings for Loghain." Lhiannon's eyes went wide and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, knowing that trying to hide it would be futile. "What?" she whispered, so softly that even Morrigan had to strain to hear it.

"Yes, I see how you look at him when you think no one is watching," Morrigan said, her voice low and serious. "I see the look on your face when you make physical contact with him. I see the way _he_ looks at _you_. Did you think I wouldn't see it?" Morrigan paused, waiting for her words to settle into Lhiannon's mind and heart. "Would you allow him to sacrifice himself, knowing how you feel for him? Could you sacrifice _yourself_ and never know if you and he could have had something more?"

Lhiannon sighed, weariness in her demeanor. "And just what am I supposed to tell him?" she spat at Morrigan angrily. "'Loghain, please have sex with Morrigan tonight so she can conceive a demon child and save the Grey Wardens?' Do you know how absolutely _ludicrous _that sounds?" Lhiannon's words were bitter and an equally bitter tear fell from her eye. She angrily wiped the tear away. Crying in front of Morrigan was the last thing she wanted to do, but found she could not help it. Morrigan had opened a floodgate inside of her and Lhiannon had no idea how to stop everything from pouring out. Morrigan had been absolutely right with regards to her feelings for Loghain. Those feelings suddenly came rushing over her in a torrent.

"My friend," Morrigan implored quietly, putting a hand on Lhiannon's arm, "I've no wish to see you die when you face the archdemon. Not when I can help you. And I _can_ help you. You must convince him to lay with me tonight. However you do that is up to you."

Lhiannon's shoulders slumped, a resigned sigh escaping from her lips. "I make no promises, Morrigan." Lhiannon turned and left the room, the weariness evident in her movements. Morrigan watched her go, a slow smile spreading on her face.

* * *

_A/N: Did you see the Star Wars shout out in here? There are two of them. ;) Yeah, I'm a total geek._

_A/N part 2: It may be a few days before I can throw the next chapter up...could be as late as Thursday. I'll see what I can do to get it up sooner though. Patience, grasshoppers. ;)  
_

_As always, thanks for reading/reviewing/bookmarking/making the story a favorite. I'm tickled pink by it!  
_


	11. The Very Ground Has Shifted

Loghain was pacing in his room. He never slept before a battle and tonight would be no different. He was pondering the disconcerting conversation with Riordan. The fact that the whole _reason_ Grey Wardens existed had been kept from them until this point made him seethe with anger. One of the three Grey Wardens would be sacrificed to stop the Blight. _ Duncan should have told Lhiannon right after her Joining what the true purpose of a Grey Warden was,_ Loghain thought angrily. He would happily sacrifice himself if it meant saving his beloved Ferelden and everything that made his nation great. He was not, however, prepared to let Lhiannon do it. She was young yet and had many years of living ahead of her. Her sacrifice would be a waste, not only to the Grey Wardens but to Ferelden itself as well. Ferelden _needed _people like her. Unlike himself; he was old and had much to atone for. Suddenly, he became angry, banging his fist on a nearby table. Lhiannon had grown on him and damn it to the Black City, he was not going to stand by and watch her sacrifice herself. He would protect her and keep her safe if was the last thing he did; it probably would be. She, and Ferelden, deserved no less.

There was a soft knock on the door. Loghain turned and went to it, annoyed at whoever could be disturbing him at this time of night and preparing to harshly admonish whoever was there. When he opened the door, however, he was surprised to see Lhiannon standing before him.

"Lhiannon, you should be resting," he said, pausing when he saw the look of anguish on her face. She was trying to hide it but doing a poor job of it. "What's wrong?" He stepped aside and motioned for her to enter, closing the door behind her. He noticed her hands shaking as she passed him. Loghain had never seen her looking this agonized before and he felt a cold prickle begin to work its way down his spine. He reached out through the taint to gain some insight, but her emotions were so wild that he could ascertain nothing. At the heart of them though, was a crushing despair.

She stood just inside the room, her eyes unfocused and her body visibly trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were freezing. Loghain was becoming concerned. He gently reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Lhiannon, tell me what is wrong," he commanded her quietly, but firmly. His touch on her shoulder seemed to snap her back to the moment and she finally looked at him.

"I was just speaking with Morrigan," she began, her voice unsteady. "She claims to know how to ensure no Grey Warden dies defeating the archdemon."

"Morrigan?" Loghain exclaimed, puzzled. "What sort of nonsense is she spouting now?"

"Do you trust me?" She suddenly blurted, her dark eyes locked onto his with such force that he could not tear his own away. Loghain paused for a moment, taken aback by her question. "Yes," he said quickly, before he realized he had even spoken the word. Even so, he instantly knew it to be true. He repeated it more forcefully. "Yes, I do."

Lhiannon sighed. Damn Morrigan and her old magic. Damn Morrigan for making her do this to her and to Loghain. Damn Duncan for keeping the truth silent, inadvertently or not. "Morrigan knows of a ritual that will ensure no Grey Warden will die when we kill the archdemon. A magic ritual. Old magic."

Loghain's brow wrinkled in distaste. _Old_ magic; nothing good could come of that. "What sort of ritual and how are we involved?" he asked cautiously. He could tell from the look that crossed Lhiannon's face that he would not care for it much, but there was a desperation in her eyes that begged him to consider her words.

She shook her head as she lowered her gaze to the ground, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't even know how to say this, so I'll just say it. The ritual involves you lying with her. Tonight. I will not lie to you either; it will produce a child."

Loghain thought he had heard everything before, but nothing prepared him for what Lhiannon said. His head spun.

"_What_?"

Was she joking? If so, it was in poor taste. He released her shoulder and ran his hands through his hair. His hands stopped halfway through, holding his head and he wondered if she was trying to deceive him in some way. He turned and took several steps away from Lhiannon before turning back toward her. He stared intently at her, but could not discern any deception from her, either from her face or through the taint. Revulsion at the very idea she proposed made his stomach lurch and the bile rise in his throat.

"And you endorse this…theory…of hers? You _know_ that marsh witch is only concerned for herself." Loghain rushed forward and grabbed Lhiannon's shoulders with such force that she would have small marks there later. "If dying is part of our duty, _we should not shirk it! _I want no part of this."

Lhiannon looked at him, the despair in her eyes growing ever deeper. "Is it so wrong to not want to die? To not watch Riordan die?" Her breath suddenly hitched as a lump formed in her throat and tears stung in her eyes. "To not watch _you_ die?"

Loghain released Lhiannon's shoulders, walking back toward the mantle and the warm fire within it. Lhiannon watched him standing at the mantle, both hands resting on it as he looked into the fire. She could see the tension in the stiff way he held himself. He turned back to face her, his hand held up in front of him in indignation.

"Since my Joining, I have come to expect the unexpected from you. But this…this is a stretch, even for you. You are far more pragmatic than this. That she asked you to do this is so far beneath you it is laughable."

Loghain paused, watching Lhiannon carefully for several moments. She was holding her shoulders where he had clutched her; he winced at the thought of the marks he no doubt left there. It suddenly dawned on him that she was _asking _this of him. She could have simply walked in and _commanded_ him to do it, but had chosen not to. His brows furrowed, wondering what her motivation was. "You could have ordered me to do this and I would be bound by duty to comply," Loghain began, his voice low and cautious. "Yet, you do not. Why is this, I wonder?"

"Loghain, perhaps it is best if you speak to her directly. _Please_," she said softly. She caught his gaze and looked at him with such desperation that it nearly split him in two. Why would she look at him like that? Against his better judgment, he scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He was going to regret this, of that he was completely certain. "I will speak to the marsh witch, but I have consented to _nothing_."

Lhiannon nodded and turned toward the door. Her head was down and she stared at her feet as they walked. Loghain followed her down the hall to her room, his unease growing with each step. As they entered the room, he saw Morrigan sitting on the bed as if she knew they were coming, one leg crossed over the other and hands on her raised knee. Of course she knew they would come.

"Ah, you are here. You have spoken to Loghain, yes?" Morrigan asked Lhiannon. She looked up at Morrigan and spoke, her voice devoid of emotion. "I told him that he would have to lay with you tonight and that there would be a child."

Morrigan snorted and looked toward Loghain. "Honesty wouldn't have been my first choice, but 'tis done."

Loghain held up a hand and looked at Morrigan with such loathing that she nearly laughed aloud. She felt the same way for him. At least they knew where they stood with one another. This was going to be such an _interesting_ evening.

"Wait," Loghain growled, narrowing his eyes at Morrigan. "I have not consented to anything yet, witch. I demand answers."

"Of course," Morrigan replied, trying to make her voice soothing. She uncrossed her legs slowly before crossing them again, her movements both graceful and vulgar. Loghain felt his stomach turn. "What do you wish to know? Lhiannon told you of the ritual, yes?"

Loghain scoffed at her. "Yes, she told me. My question for you is what of the child? You will not come back with, _it_, later and try to lay a claim on my daughter's throne, will you?"

"No," Morrigan said emphatically, "I will not. I will take the child and leave. It shall never know who the father is. You shan't ever see me again."

"Thank the Maker," Loghain sneered, not bothering to hide his contempt for Morrigan. He turned to look at Lhiannon, catching her gaze. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Agreeing to this appalling ritual would avoid the sacrifice of a Grey Warden. It would avoid _her _sacrifice, should she be the one to slay the archdemon. He knew her well enough that if she had half the chance, she would be the one to destroy the archdemon, come hell or high water. He knew now that he would do anything to protect her, even if it meant storming the gates of the Black City itself. He did not completely understand why he felt that way, but it felt right.

"Loghain," Lhiannon said, her voice even. "The decision is yours. I won't order you to do it." Her voice dropped to a barely discernible whisper. "I can't."

Loghain went to Lhiannon and stood before her, looking down in those dark eyes that were so completely different from his own. She looked up at him, uncertain as to what he would decide. Loghain studied Lhiannon's face for a long moment, committing her features to memory for the dark task that lay ahead. Finally, he nodded at her; she returned it. Loghain then quickly spun about and faced Morrigan. "Let us get this over with before I change my mind," he growled. _I am going to regret this. Maker forgive me._

"A wise decision," Morrigan replied, triumph in her voice.

"Shut up," he snarled at her. "You'll pardon me, however, if I close my eyes and think of anything but _you_."

"Who or what you think about is of no concern to me," she said, a sly smile spreading across her face. She stood and walked to the door, beckoning to Loghain as she passed. "Come Loghain, let us go somewhere more private."

* * *

Lhiannon was feeling restless, pacing back and forth in her guest room. Why did this ritual bother her so much? She understood the reasoning behind it—why sacrifice someone needlessly? It made sense, strange as it may sound. Mulling the whole situation over in her mind, it was not that it was old magic involved. It was not even the fact that a child would be conceived whose only purpose was to accept the untainted soul of the old god. She supposed that fact should be bothering her more, but strangely, it was not. After several minutes it dawned on her. It was the fact that Loghain was with Morrigan…they would be together, intimate… She knew that the only feelings between Loghain and Morrigan involved thinly disguised mutual loathing, but it bothered her just the same. She stopped in her tracks as another realization hit her like the blow from a hammer. Morrigan had been absolutely right; her feelings for Loghain had gone well beyond comrades or friends. She suddenly felt like the walls of the room were closing in and the temperature rising. She needed to take a walk and hopefully clear her head.

A few minutes later, she was walking through the gardens behind the castle and found herself at the edge of a reflecting pool there. She has seen it during the day several times, masses of flowers creating a riot of color around the pool. Now, with the darkness of night and the moon overhead, the pool took on an ethereal, silvery glow. She sat down on a stone bench and plucked a yellow flower from nearby. One by one, she began to pluck the satiny petals off the stem and tossed them idly into the pool. There they floated on tiny ripples, bright spots on the silvery water.

Lhiannon tried to think back to see where these strong feelings for Loghain came from. After all, this was the man who just a few months ago wanted to put a stop to the Grey Wardens at all costs. He had even procured the services of an _assassin_ to stop her—and now she was _attracted_ to him? The idea was completely absurd, but try as she might, telling herself anything other than 'I am attracted to him' sounded and felt like a lie. She did admire his skills as a warrior and tactician; who in Ferelden did not? He was the Hero of River Dane. He helped King Maric and Queen Rowan rebuild Ferelden after the Orlesians were driven out. He liberated Kinloch Hold when Remille usurped it. Despite what he had done in recent months, the man was still respected and admired by many Fereldens far and wide; she had begun to consider herself among that number as she learned more about him since his Joining. They had actually become friendly over time…so maybe…it was the beginning of something more? How could she have let this happen?

She threw the now bare stem of the flower into the pool and plucked another flower, this one a bright red. The flower had waxy, almost sticky, petals. She began to pluck the petals off this new flower and tossed them into the water absentmindedly. Try as she might, she could not deny it to herself; could not _lie_ to herself. Morrigan was right; Lhiannon had developed feelings for the Hero of River Dane, the man who named himself regent, the man she spared and conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Could he ever see her as a _woman_, not just a companion or a Grey Warden? The Maker did have a sense of humor after all. _I must be completely mad_, she thought to herself.

* * *

While Lhiannon was coming to certain conclusions by the reflecting pool, Loghain was drawing a few conclusions himself. Morrigan was absolutely and completely revolting to him. She had the sinewy movements of a serpent with the personality to match. Loghain willed his stomach not to turn as Morrigan doused the candles in her room, save one. He wondered how he was going to actually perform this deed; he did not think he would be physically able to. She turned to him and spoke, her voice turning his spine to ice and causing an involuntary shudder of revulsion.

"Come Loghain. 'Tis for the good of the Grey Wardens. This shan't be as difficult as you may think," she purred.

"The only reason I do this is for the Grey Wardens," he sneered, not bothering to hide his contempt. He glared at her, wishing he could wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life from her.

Morrigan laughed, waving her hand at him. "Of course, if that is the tale you wish to tell yourself, I shall not stop you. I _know_ your heart belongs elsewhere, and not just to Ferelden or the Grey Wardens." Her voice dropped low and a conspiratorial smirk crossed her face. "I could always put _her_ face in your mind, if you wish it."

Loghain clenched both his teeth and his fists. "You will mind your words, witch," he snarled at her.

Morrigan had moved over to the bed and began to languidly remove her clothing. She rather enjoyed seeing Loghain squirm. It made her feel powerful and she could feel her arousal increasing as the magic began to work its way around her. "Come to the bed, unless you wish to perform the ritual on your feet. Or against the wall, it matters not." She turned her back to him and began to remove her small clothes, throwing a seductive look over her shoulder at Loghain. A dark shadow crossed his face and he scowled. Morrigan smiled and very nearly laughed out loud. Powerful indeed.

The magic swirled around Morrigan like a shroud. She began to send it out and away from her body until it enveloped both her and Loghain. It began to have the desired effect as she noticed his arousal beginning to take shape. Loghain was aghast that the magic could make his body react in such a manner, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Naked, she slithered onto the bed and gestured to Loghain. "T'would be easier to perform the ritual without your clothing in the way." Loghain snarled at her again, but began to remove his clothing, making sure they were within reach. When he was finished, he quickly climbed onto the bed and on top of Morrigan. He was going to complete this task as quickly as possible, and maybe he would hurt her in the process. He certainly _did_ want to hurt Morrigan, not only for having to do this Maker forsaken ritual in the first place, but then offering to defile _her_ image during this task. The thought turned his vision red with anger and it took every ounce of control he possessed to not reach out and simply snap Morrigan's neck.

Loghain shoved her legs apart with his knee and forcefully pushed himself into her. Morrigan gasped and arched her back into him, a triumphant laugh escaping her lips. Loghain grabbed her wrists with one hand and a large lock of hair with the other. He yanked her head aside by the hair and pinned her wrists above it, putting as much weight into his hand as possible. He felt the bones in her wrists grind together and Morrigan hissed in pain. Once her wrists were pinned, he plunged himself roughly into Morrigan, trying to push harder with every thrust. He despised her, and the rage drove him into Morrigan harder. She was gasping and moaning beneath him, her eyes closed and a smug look on her face. The smugness in her face made him even angrier, something he did not think was possible. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist to draw him in deeper but he yanked her hair again, even harder than before. He wanted as little of her touching him as possible. She hissed and swore in a language he never heard before.

"Do not do that," he snarled through gritted teeth. He could feel the urgency building within him and knew that his peak was approaching; it would not be soon enough. Mustering all his strength, he thrust himself into her one last time, arching his head toward the sky and roaring out loud as his seed filled her. _Maker forgive me_, he thought as his convulsions finished. The deed left him exhausted, but he would not rest upon Morrigan's body. He immediately withdrew and climbed off her and the bed, seeking to put some distance between them. The magical forces began to recede and he saw that he was shaking as he reached for his clothes and began to quickly dress. His stomach roiled and he fought to keep the bile from reaching his throat. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to find the nearest washtub and scrub her essence from his skin.

Morrigan was still on the bed, breathing heavily with the exertion of both the act and weaving the spell. She could feel Loghain's seed inside her womb and she sighed contentedly, moving her hands to her abdomen. The ritual worked; through the spell, she had felt when his seed quickened her. Soon there would be the untainted soul of an old god for her child. She smiled and patted her stomach.

"T'was not as bad as you thought, yes?" she asked smugly, wrapping her arms behind her head. Loghain glowered at her but said nothing as he turned his back to her and began to walk toward the door. "May I give you a word of advice before you leave?" Morrigan called out to him.

He stopped, but did not turn to face her. "What advice could you possibly have that I would want?"

"Death comes as it will. Tell her how you feel. Tonight. You may not have occasion to later."

"Is there a point to this? If so I have failed to grasp it."

"I see how you look at her," Morrigan began, her voice serious yet mocking. "I saw how you comforted her after the last real nightmare she had. You let no one close to you, yet you have allowed her to worm her way into your cold and bitter heart. Both of you have so much to say to the other, but neither of you have done so. Whether 'tis cowardice or foolishness, who can say? T'would be a pity, however, leaving so much unsaid before the battle. One never knows when death comes."

Loghain scoffed, then left the room, slamming the door behind him. He was glad that either way, he would see no more of the apostate witch soon.

* * *

Loghain walked to Lhiannon's room to see if she was still awake. Morrigan's last remark was still very fresh in his mind. The witch, he hated to admit, had a point. That Morrigan could see through him so easily was disturbing. Deep in his mind, Loghain knew that he consented to the ritual to ensure that neither he nor Lhiannon died during the battle with the archdemon. Riordan never crossed his mind; somehow, Loghain knew that Riordan would not figure into the battle. It would come down to a true Ferelden to strike the killing blow and he would do whatever it took to ensure they both survived. He reached her door and knocked softly.

"Lhiannon?"

There was no answer. He tried the latch and found it unlocked; he opened the door a crack and peered inside. The room was empty, the fire in the hearth burning low. As he was closing the door, an elven servant passed by. "You there," Loghain called, "have you seen the Grey Warden Lhiannon recently?"

"Yes, Warden," the elf bowed. "I saw her walking outside to the gardens."

Loghain curtly nodded and turned toward his room to grab a cloak. Somehow, he was not surprised that she would be out in the gardens. Being born a farmer, he was fond of gardens and often sought solitude there when he needed to clear his head. It was the perfect place to find peace; he and Anora had spent a great deal of time at the gardens in Denerim in recent months. He donned his cloak and went outside.

After a few minutes of searching, both with his eyes and through the taint, he found Lhiannon sitting on a stone bench beside a reflecting pool. She had a far away look on her face and was absentmindedly plucking the petals off flowers and tossing them into the pool. There were quite a few liberated petals floating on the surface. Loghain quietly approached but she had not noticed him yet. She appeared to be deep in thought, her eyes distant and seemingly unfocused.

"I'm sure the gardener will be quite cross with you for picking the flowers," he said quietly as he closed the final distance between them.

Lhiannon nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke. "Loghain! Maker's breath, you startled me!"

He chuckled. "I'm sorry—it was not my intention to sneak up on you."

Lhiannon waived the apology off. "There's no need for apologies. I was just…lost in thought and did not hear you approach." She motioned to the bench. "Would you care to join me?"

"Indeed," he said as he took a seat beside her. "This is quite peaceful."

"It is," Lhiannon agreed. "I can almost forget the Blight here."

They both looked out over the pool for several moments, not saying anything. Both of them had so much to say to the other, but neither knew where to begin. "It is done," Loghain finally said, arms resting on his thighs and his head down, looking at the ground between his feet.

Lhiannon nodded. "I am glad that it's over with. But…" Lhiannon paused, unsure of what to say next.

Loghain turned his head to look at her. Lhiannon was staring intently at the pool, an anxious look on her face. "But what?" Loghain prompted.

In a voice that was barely above a whisper, Lhiannon answered. "I was…worried about you."

"You were worried?" Loghain asked quietly, questioning in his voice.

"Yes," Lhiannon said. "I feel like I forced you into that damned ritual. Like I gave you no choice. I care for you, Loghain." Her words began to tumble out and she found herself unable to stop them. "I didn't want to see her hurt you. I didn't want to see her _with_ you. I agreed with the ritual because I don't want to die and I don't want to watch _you_ die either. I know that sounds selfish and perhaps I am, but…you have become important to me Loghain…" She stopped, putting her head in her hands and feeling like a complete fool. _Oh Maker, what have I done?_ she thought, feeling the color rise in her face.

Loghain turned his gaze back to the pool, his mind racing. After all that had happened, Lhiannon _did_ feel something for him. The marsh witch was right. However it had happened, it appeared she was not the only one rending walls asunder. The thought was both thrilling and disconcerting to him. He turned back to her, gently took her chin in his hand, and turned her face to him. She looked positively frightened. Even in the dim light he saw the color flush her cheeks. She could not meet his gaze.

"Lhiannon," Loghain said firmly, "you gave me a choice; you didn't force me to do it. I did it of my own volition." He paused and took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice grew quiet. "It was to avoid the needless sacrifice of a Grey Warden, but not only that..." He paused, not sure if he should go on. He caught her gaze in his own and held it for a moment. In that moment, both felt something stirring to life within, an awakening that found their souls reaching out and finding the missing pieces of one within the other. The very ground seemed to shift beneath them as their hearts beat faster and the blood roared in their ears.

Loghain turned away with a sigh, releasing the gentle hold on Lhiannon's chin with tremendous difficulty. "We must focus on the task at hand—defeating the archdemon. Everything else must wait."

* * *

_A/N: Oh boy. This was hard.  
_

_Thanks to everyone for following along. I appreciate it a great deal!  
_


	12. The Nightmare in Flesh

A knock on the door in the wee hours of the morning woke Lhiannon from a restless sleep. She rose from her bed, padding to the door in a simple cotton shift to find one of the Arl's servants there with a tray of food, telling her that the army was prepared to march within the hour. She took the offered food and set it on the table, turning to her pack to begin dressing for the march.

Lhiannon was still feeling remorse at what she had asked Loghain to do the night before, leaving her sleep fitful and thin. He had not gone into details regarding what happened—nor did she want to know any—but had merely reassured her that she had no reason to feel guilty. He had spoken to her firmly, but there was also a tenderness in his voice that she had never heard before. The thought made her smile as she pulled her greaves off the armor rack and began to secure them into place.

Another knock on the door a few minutes later interrupted her thoughts. Grabbing a piece of bread from the table, she went to the door to find Loghain standing on the other side, completely dressed in his silverite armor with his pack slung over his shoulder, weapon and shield in place. He scoffed and shook his head at her when she saw that she was only dressed in armor from the waist down.

"You do intend on joining the rest of Ferelden today, don't you?" he scoffed at her, a wry grin turning up one corner of his mouth. He walked over and pulled her breast and back plates off the armor rack, handing the breastplate to her as she finished chewing the bread she was eating.

"A girl has to eat, Loghain," she said, taking the breastplate and holding it in place as he maneuvered the backplate into position, securing one side while she secured the other. While she finished adjusting the last of the buckles and straps, Loghain turned toward the table and grabbed a piece of bread off her plate, taking a bite as he watched her finish securing her armor.

"Are you ready for this?" Loghain asked Lhiannon as she approached the table and began to wrap the rest of the food in napkins. She placed some of the small bundles into her pack.

"Can one ever be fully ready to march to war?" Lhiannon replied, setting her pack on the table and looking to Loghain, holding out several of the small wrapped packets to him.

"I watched a dragon fly over a battlefield once; River Dane," Loghain said, reaching out to accept her offering. "It was a majestic sight; a majestic creature. This creature—I want to see its carcass burning after we've severed its head and sent its essence to the wind."

Lhiannon gave him a melancholy smile as she sheathed her sword and grabbed her staff. "Well, let's not keep it waiting then." She turned to pick up her pack from the table when she felt Loghain's hand on her shoulder. She paused, frozen in place by the heavy, yet comforting weight of his hand.

"You have become important to me as well," he said quietly before he turned and walked out the door ahead of her.

* * *

The armies began their march to Denerim at dawn as Arl Eamon ordered. The Grey Wardens and their companions rode out ahead of the main army, scouting for darkspawn and relaying messages back to the commanders in the field. They only stopped briefly to rest and eat quick meals. Even stopping for an hour seemed too long to Lhiannon. They had to get to Denerim. Queen Anora and Alistair would be there with what troops they had and they needed to be reinforced.

The armies had marched all day and night, stopping only occasionally for short breaks. At dawn on the second day, Arl Eamon commanded the army to pick up the pace. It would be a miracle from the Maker if they arrived in Denerim before the horde could ravage the city. Lhiannon did not hold out much hope for that. The feel of darkspawn through the taint was becoming stronger; it felt like thousands of them were on the move, the seething in her blood growing stronger the closer they came to the capital. On through the night and into the next day they marched, the Arl setting a punishing pace. It was afternoon when the walls of Denerim became visible in the distance. Once in sight, Riordan had taken a number of riders and soldiers with him to head into Denerim ahead of the main army. They would reconnoiter and report back to the Arl.

The darkspawn had indeed reached Denerim first. They could hear the sounds of the main horde and saw smoke in the air. Lhiannon's sense of the darkspawn nearly overwhelmed her. They were everywhere and nearly on all sides of them. Suddenly, she felt a shiver run through her and looked to Loghain to see if he felt it too. He had turned ashen and was looking into the skies above Denerim. "Look," he whispered in horrified awe, pointing toward Denerim.

The archdemon soared above the city, its dark shape severely contrasted against the sky. Lhiannon felt her stomach clench in fear and tried to force it away. They were so close to it now that they could almost understand it talking to the horde. It wanted to destroy everything in its path and urged the darkspawn to obey its will. This was the reason they were here. Loghain had walked his horse next to hers and turned to her. Her eyes were wide with awe and fear.

"We will succeed," Loghain said assuredly. Lhiannon hoped he was right. Arl Eamon brought his horse alongside the Grey Wardens, turning toward Lhiannon as he stopped. "You should say something to the armies; bolster their courage."

Lhiannon felt the pit in her stomach grow even deeper; she hated speaking in front of crowds like this. She knew that hearing from the Grey Wardens however would indeed bolster the soldiers' courage. Taking a deep breath, she turned her horse around and galloped to the front of the gathered army, holding her hand up for attention. A hush fell over the army as they watched her ride before them.

"We stand here before the gates of Denerim, a city that has known the joys of peace and the horrors of war," Lhiannon began, shouting as loud as her voice would allow. "Where before we fought to throw off the yoke of those who would dominate us, today we fight an enemy that seeks nothing less than our destruction.

"This is the land of Andraste's birth; this is her very city, and we will not give it up without a fight! I know you're scared; I feel the same fear as you. But we need to look beyond our fear and find the courage that has united us and made us strong.

"We are Fereldens! We fight for those who have gone before us! We fight for the memory of King Cailan and those who died at Ostagar. We fight for the future King, Alistair, heir to Calenhad's throne. We fight for our Queen, Anora. We fight for the safety of Thedas. And we fight for the Grey Wardens!"

Loghain felt his own courage bolstered and a chill run down his spine as Lhiannon stood in the stirrups of her saddle, pulling her borrowed silverite sword from its scabbard and raising it high above her head. He was reminded of the warrior Queen he beheld before the battle at River Dane; Lhiannon's magnificence held Loghain in awe much like Rowan's once did. Lhiannon's shouts were even louder now, louder that either one thought possible.

"Let the people of Denerim hear you, so that you may bolster them with your courage!" Lhiannon shouted, holding her sword high. "Let the darkspawn hear you, so that they may know the true meaning of fear! And let the archdemon hear you, so that it knows death has come for it!"

Loghain spurred his horse forward, bringing it to Lhiannon's side. He pulled his sword and held it high, turning and looking at Lhiannon with determination in his eyes. "For Ferelden!" he shouted, standing in his stirrups and thrusting his sword high in the air. Lhiannon turned back toward the gathered armies. "For the Grey Wardens!" she shouted.

The gathered army began to bellow loudly, banging their swords and hammers on their shields in unison, the cacophony of sound drowning out the roaring of the archdemon in the distance. With a wave of his hand, Loghain and Lhiannon turned their horses toward the city and raced toward it, the screaming voices and pounding of metal and feet a frenzied crescendo behind them.

* * *

The armies pushed forward toward the gates of Denerim, battling the horde but taking heavily losses. They were much closer to the archdemon now and Lhiannon could almost make out specific thoughts between the beast and the darkspawn. Its thoughts sent chills down her spine. She knew that the archdemon thought they had the armies outnumbered at the city gates and they were putting up heavy resistance. The armies battled through with swords and shields, arrows and magic; the screams of triumph and agony ringing in her ears. Lhiannon and Morrigan used their offensive magic to try and clear a path for the army. Slowly, they were able to push the darkspawn back and enter the gates of Denerim.

Riordan spotted Lhiannon and ran up to her, relief clearly showing on his bloodied face. His sword and armor were streaked with gore. "You've made it to the gate! We are doing better than I had hoped for." He paused for a moment to catch his breath. Loghain saw where Riordan was talking with Lhiannon and hurried over to join them.

"The army will not last much longer," Riordan began once he caught his breath. "We need to move quickly to get to the archdemon. A smaller group can move faster through the city." He looked at Lhiannon intently. "I suggest taking Loghain and perhaps two others into the city. The rest will remain here and help prevent the darkspawn from entering Denerim behind us."

Lhiannon pointed to where the archdemon circled overhead. "Just how in the bloody hell are we to fight a flying dragon?"

"We need to reach a high point," Riordan explained, turning and pointing to a building in the distance. "I was thinking Fort Drakon."

Loghain nodded in understanding. "You want to draw the archdemon's attention to us."

Riordan nodded back to him. "Yes, we don't have much choice. However, as soon as we engage the archdemon it will call upon all its generals for help."

"Generals?" Lhiannon asked, eyebrows rising in surprise. "Great. How many of _them_ are traipsing about Denerim?"

Riordan paused for a moment, a far away look on his face. He was concentrating on the taint. "I can sense two of them for sure. There are so many darkspawn about that I can't narrow down where they are."

"If we can stop the generals, it will break their ranks and stop the darkspawn from doing more harm in the city," Loghain surmised.

Riordan nodded. "That is true; or it could waste precious resources trying to track them down. The decision is up to you. Now, who will go with you into the city?" Riordan asked.

Lhiannon looked toward her companions; no, that was not true any longer. They were her friends. Her heart ached to have to split the group up and she worried that she may not see them again. Best to focus on the task ahead then. If she did not, grief would overcome her. "Wynne and Morrigan will come with Loghain and me." She turned toward Sten and met his eyes. "Sten, you will lead the others."

Sten nodded gravely to her, "As you wish, kadan." He stepped forward to her and offered his hand. Lhiannon blinked in surprise, but took it. "You would be worthy to stand among my brothers in the Beresaad," he said, his face grave.

Lhiannon started back at him in surprise. "What changed your mind about that?"

"You did."

Lhiannon released his hand and stepped back, nodding thanks as a lump formed in her throat. She turned to her remaining friends and said her good byes with a heavy heart. It was an honor to have known and traveled with them all. She prayed to the Maker that she would see them again when her duty was complete. Zevran, as usual, saw her despair and was able to make her laugh when he expressed his disappointment that the archdemon never writes to him anymore. She gave him a rough hug and kissed his cheek, bidding him to care for Tiberius in her absence, then turned to Loghain and the mages.

"Let's do this."

* * *

They had found the two generals in the city and slew them on their way to Fort Drakon. As they had suspected, once the generals were out of the way, the darkspawn under their command scattered and were no longer a serious threat to their progress. They had just reached the bridge to the palace district when the archdemon appeared and destroyed the structure behind them, as if to mock them and dare them to come for it. There was no turning back now.

Lhiannon and Loghain felt a flicker in the taint and looked to the sky. Riordan had fought his way through the darkspawn and was standing atop a tower, looking toward the looming archdemon. He was daring it to come close. The beast turned in flight and began to head straight for him, roaring a challenge as it closed the distance between them. Riordan started to sprint across the tower toward the archdemon.

"Maker's breath," Lhiannon gasped, stunned. "He's going to jump off the tower!"

When Riordan got to the edge, he leaped off the tower and landed squarely on the archdemon's back. He was furiously stabbing the beast with his sword again and again. The archdemon screamed, swaying and bucking in the air, trying to knock Riordan off its back. It flew toward the tower in an attempt to brush Riordan off; he saw the tower and at the last moment jumped onto the archdemon's wing, stabbing his sword through it and holding on for dear life. The archdemon roared, then flew straight up trying once again to knock Riordan off it. Riordan's weight caused the sword to begin sliding through the wing and the archdemon screamed in pain, its flight becoming erratic. Riordan tried desperately to gain a handhold on the beast, but his sword completely tore through the membranes of the wing. He fell, silently, to the ground. That part of the taint that was distinctly Riordan fell quiet; its silence deafening. The archdemon, wounded and unable to fly, landed on top of Fort Drakon with a resounding thud and a roar of pain and fury.

Lhiannon gasped in shock and horror. Loghain pounded his fist into a nearby wall. "Damn it," he spat angrily. She turned to him, mouth agape and horror on her face. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. With grim resolve, he spoke.

"It is up to us now."

Lhiannon nodded, reaching up to grasp Loghain's forearms. "Then let's finish this," she growled.

They fought their way to Fort Drakon, all four of them heavily wounded and feeling the tickle of healing spells race across their skin. Once inside, they defeated the darkspawn there and paused for several moments before heading out onto the roof. Wynne hurriedly prepared more healing flasks and poultices while Lhiannon cast several healing spells. They would not be completely healed but would be in better shape than they were now.

When it was Loghain's turn for healing, Lhiannon removed her gauntlet and placed her hand on his face and chanted the healing spell, looking into his cool blue eyes. Lhiannon felt the healing magic pass through her hand into Loghain and he sighed gratefully. He studied her intently as she cast, committing her lovely face and dark eyes to memory. His superficial wounds began to close. He covered her small hand with his own rough, yet gentle one. His thumb stroked the back of her hand for all too brief a moment.

"Thank you," he spoke to her softly. Lhiannon nodded and drew her hand away, replacing the gauntlet. She stood up straight and determination flooded through her.

"Now let's send this bastard back to the pit it came from," she snarled.

None of them were prepared for the sight that greeted them when they burst forth onto the roof of Fort Drakon. There were bodies everywhere, the smell of blood and corruption so thick in the air that it was palpable. It was impossible to tell what some bodies were, darkspawn or otherwise. Blood sat in stagnating pools and bloody footprints led away from them in all directions. There was fighting everywhere, darkspawn against human, dwarf, and elf.

Then, there was the archdemon itself.

"Andraste's blood", Lhiannon swore as her wide eyed gaze settled on the beast. The archdemon was so much _bigger_ than she had dreamed. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she realized that the dreams of the archdemon did not do it justice. It was much more terrifying in person. Its purple and black skin seemed to crawl along the archdemon's body like it was itself alive. Its teeth were much longer and more numerous than she ever imagined. The stink of corruption was so strong it made her eyes water and she had to fight the urge to vomit.

The archdemon spotted them, rising up on its hind legs and roaring a challenge to them. When it landed on all fours again, the entire roof shook with the impact. A soldier in heavy armor had raced up to it, plunging his sword into the foreleg of the beast. It turned and picked up the soldier in its mouth, the soldier's screams stopping suddenly as the archdemon bit down hard. Blood poured out of its mouth and with a whip of its head, flung the broken body off the roof of the fort. It turned to regard the Grey Wardens again, daring them to come close.

Lhiannon turned to the mages. "Morrigan, Wynne—take some of the dwarves and get up to those ballistae. Try to use those to battle the archdemon directly when you can. I'm sure Wynne will be doing more healing than fighting, so the ballistae may fall to you Morrigan."

"As you wish," Morrigan nodded. "Be careful, child," Wynne added.

"Loghain and I will be in the thick of the fighting and working our way toward the archdemon. May the Maker protect us. Let's go."

As Morrigan and Wynne ran toward the nearest ballista, Loghain and Lhiannon ran off toward the army of Ferelden, brandishing their swords and joining the melee. "_For Ferelden_!" came the war cry from Loghain. He crashed into a small group of darkspawn and immediately several of them fell dead as his sword flashed in the air and found purchase in darkspawn flesh. Lhiannon's hands glowed white and blinding snow and ice flew from her outstretched hands, freezing everything in their path.

* * *

Loghain had no intention of letting Lhiannon near the archdemon. He planned on staying as close to it as possible so he could deliver the killing blow. It was not for his pride or glory or redemption that he wanted to be the one to end the archdemon; it was for Lhiannon. He had decided, after completing that so-called "ritual", that he would not let Lhiannon near it if he could prevent it. Following the discussion they had at the reflecting pool in Redcliffe, he was going to make sure she would be safe by delivering the killing blow himself. He did not trust that marsh witch in the least, and certainly not her "old magic". The one thing that stuck in his mind however was that Morrigan had been right. Loghain _had _allowed Lhiannon to burrow her way into his heart. The thought that Morrigan could be right about anything rankled him, but knew that he would do it over again if he had to—to protect Lhiannon. There was no sense in denying that fact to himself any longer. Nevertheless, he wanted to make sure that he was near the archdemon when it was time for the killing blow. Let him make the sacrifice if that was truly what was required; if Morrigan's "ritual" was just a ruse. Lhiannon was young and had many years ahead of her. He was an old man with much to atone for. He was prepared to hand his beloved Ferelden to her; she would be a good steward.

He had spent much of the march from Redcliffe contemplating his feelings for Lhiannon. At first he scoffed at the idea that he was feeling any sort of serious attraction to her. He realized that it had started when she agreed to accompany him to Ostagar. It must have been difficult for her, but she put aside her reservations and did it anyway. It had begun to grow when he was teaching her how to wield her sword after the battle with Flemeth. They had sat together, cleaning their weapons and armor and talking of Maric. A lifetime ago, it felt like. It was then he realized that he was becoming fond of her. And when she confessed her fears to him after her nightmare, he knew then that his walls were being systematically torn down and he found himself unable, or unwilling, to rebuild them.

In some ways, she had reminded him of Rowan. Lhiannon may not have the swordsmanship that Rowan had, but she was a fierce and determined fighter just the same. _That_ was just like Rowan. Of course, Lhiannon's magical abilities were most definitely _not_ Rowan, and Loghain tried to focus on that. She was a mage and magic was not to be trusted. In the end though, he found his mind drifting toward Lhiannon more often that he was prepared to admit. It annoyed him. It excited him. He was too old to be thinking such things. After all, she was nearly half his age. Why would she be interested in an old man who had far fewer years left that she did?

Yet she was; she had made that clear to him after that Maker forsaken ritual. She cared for him. _He_ was important to _her_. Not important to Ferelden, or to the battle in which he now found himself, but to _her._ After his wife died, he was certain that there would be no other woman in his life. How ironic that it was a mage, a former foe, and a Grey Warden that burrowed her way into his heart. She had done so without him even realizing it, rending all his walls and barriers asunder. But was such a thing wise? Most likely not; however, he still found himself wanting her even as he ran another hurlock through with his sword.

* * *

Lhiannon felt her strength waning and hoped this battle would be over soon. Wynne's healing spells left a constant tickle on her skin. Lhiannon was using all her mana on offensive spells and was counting on Wynne to keep her alive at this point. She hoped Wynne had enough lyrium potions to keep going; she was going to find herself in a lot of trouble if Wynne ran out. Her own mana reserves were shockingly low and she could feel the strain and weakness threatening to overpower her. There were so many darkspawn about that her mana did not have time to fully regenerate and as the battle progressed, she found herself relying more and more on her swordsmanship and less on magic. She was trying to reserve her mana for when she absolutely needed it. Nevertheless, she was no true warrior and the battle was taking its toll.

Lhiannon knew she was seriously wounded but could not let that distract her. She had several arrows sticking out of her elven armor and had felt the tip of one arrow brush the side of her face. She was cut there, as she constantly had to wipe blood out of her eye. She blinked constantly to try and clear the blurred vision in that eye. She had pulled a dagger from her leg, watching with alarm as the blood flowed freely from the wound and down her leg. Her foot was squelching in her boot. She could feel the blood squeeze up between her toes with every step she took. She did not want to think about just how much blood her foot was sitting in.

Lhiannon could feel Loghain alive through the taint but with so many darkspawn about, she could not tell where he was and did not have the time to search visually. She knew that he had been directly hit by at least one spell, the pain traveling through the taint nearly made her fall to her knees. It left her with a biting sting all over her body. She hoped he was all right.

She saw movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see a genlock rushing at her, snarling and gnashing its teeth. Lhiannon had just cast a magic bolt at the charging genlock when she heard the archdemon scream. This was not the roaring she was used to hearing…this was different. She quickly thrust her sword into the gullet of the genlock and raised her foot to push if off the sword, but not before the genlock stuck its dagger under her armor and into her ribs. She could feel the blade slide along one of the ribs before coming to a stop, the hilt against her skin. She screamed in pain and used her foot to kick the darkspawn off her sword. Once it pulled free, she staggered and turned to see where the archdemon was. Now she saw why its scream was so different; it was dying. The archdemon staggered on its feet, multiple wounds from Morrigan's spells scattered on its body and bolts from the ballistae stuck to its hide. It spotted her and took a couple of steps toward her, weakening as she watched. It defiantly roared one more time, then collapsed onto the roof. It tried to get onto its feet, but only the head and part of the neck rose up. _Now_, she thought.

Her vision narrowed and her senses blocked everything out but her and the archdemon. She yanked the genlock's dagger from her side, screaming again in pain, ignoring the heat and blood that poured forth from the wound. She gripped her sword tightly and sprinted toward the archdemon, a battle cry emerging from her raw and aching throat. And if Loghain screamed at her, she did not hear it.

* * *

Loghain was in the middle of a melee about forty paces from the beast; close enough, he hoped. His armor was so covered in blood and ichor he would not have been able to tell what color it was if he was not so intimately familiar with it. There were new dents in the armor, some so deep they dug into the skin beneath, causing it to break and bleed. He was also heavily wounded. A hurlock had managed to stab its sword under Loghain's arm and the tip entered the sensitive skin under the pit, nearly coming out through his collarbone. It left his arm weak, but not so weak where he could not fight. He had been hit with the pommel of a sword in the side of his face, his borrowed helmet only absorbing part of the blow. He had spat out several broken teeth and then ran the darkspawn through with his sword. A lightning spell from an emissary had caused electrical shocks to travel throughout his armor, leaving Loghain stinging and numb all over. He was pretty sure the spell burned his skin as well; the pain was widespread and constant and it felt like his skin was weeping. The clothing under his armor stuck to his skin and chafed.

He had just dispatched a number of hurlocks in cooperation with several men from the royal army when he heard the archdemon's scream from his left. Loghain whipped his head from side to side, looking for Lhiannon. He did not see her. He hoped it was because the fighting had drawn her off away from the beast. He knew she still lived and could even feel her pain through the taint, but with so many darkspawn about he could not ascertain any more than that.

More darkspawn were headed in his direction, trying to rally themselves around the archdemon. Loghain turned to the soldiers next to him. "Keep them off me!" he roared. "I'm going for the archdemon!" He spun about and raced off without waiting for a reply. He had not taken more than a half dozen steps when he saw Lhiannon racing for the archdemon herself, sword held at the ready and screaming a primal battle cry. He realized then that he would never make it to the beast first. She had been far closer to it than he was after all. He howled her name in anguish.

* * *

_A/N: I know Anora gives the pep talk before the battle, but I wanted my Warden to do it instead. I found it hard to believe Anora's army would want her traipsing around the countryside with an army of __darkspawn—and__, oh yeah, an __ARCHDEMON—running__ amok in Denerim._

_Thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, bookmarking, and lurking! As always, I appreciate it. Your support means a lot!_


	13. Blood and Anguish

Lhiannon could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, so fast it had almost merged with the pounding of her feet as she sprinted toward the archdemon. She could feel a faint fluttering in her chest as the adrenaline burst forth into her veins. She was amazed that she even had any left. Her body had started to weaken, and she was more than a little concerned about the rattling sound coming from her chest, but pushed it aside by sheer willpower alone. She _must_ get to the archdemon. It was her duty—to the Grey Wardens, to Ferelden, to herself. This nightmare for Ferelden will end here and now or she will die trying. If for some reason she failed, she knew in her heart that Loghain would complete the task.

All Loghain could do was watch. Without even realizing it he slowed from a dead sprint, to a jog, to a slow walk, his eyes wide and riveted on Lhiannon. At that moment, she looked both magnificent and terrible as she approached the archdemon. She was brandishing his own silverite sword; the sword he had given her to train with. Her hair had come loose from the string she had tied it back with, and it swirled about her head like a dark corona. Her lips were pulled back from her teeth in a snarl he had never seen before; not even the snarl she gave him holding her dagger to his throat at the Landsmeet could compare. He saw Morrigan off in the distance, scrambling atop one of the ballistae, her eyes riveted on Lhiannon. Loghain paid her no heed. The sounds of battle had faded from a roaring assault on his senses to a far off drone. Strangely, he could hear the thudding of Lhiannon's boots as she raced toward the archdemon's raised head. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. He heard himself howling her name in anguish and had to lock his knees to keep from sinking to them.

Lhiannon closed the distance between her and the dragon. With her sword held high, Lhiannon pushed it up as hard as she could into the lower jaw of the archdemon. She felt it poke through into the beast's mouth; feeling the beast flinch and trying to pull away, but her forward momentum negated any struggle the weakening beast could manage. The blood was pouring down onto her, hot and stinking of copper and corruption. It ran in rivers down her arms, her back, and her face. She felt the dragon's head sinking toward the ground; she yanked her sword out of the beast and rolled out from beneath it before she could be crushed by its weight. She felt the ground tremble as the head fell to the ground, its eyes rolling, trying to find her.

With tremendous effort, Lhiannon brought herself to her feet and staggered toward the beast once again. She felt the hot blood pouring out of her side and began to see small dark flowers bloom in her vision. Instinctively, she knew her death was coming. With all the strength she could muster, and voicing a scream that encompassed all her emotions—rage, fear, grief, determination, triumph—she buried her sword to the hilt between the archdemon's eyes. There was a flash of bright light and instinctively she closed her eyes, but it did not help. It was as if the light burned through her eyelids, though there was no heat. She basked in the light for a moment, twisting her sword in the archdemon's skull and roaring in triumph before she allowed the darkness to take her. A shockwave suddenly emanated from the beast, throwing her away from it like a rag doll into a pile of rubble. She did not feel herself crumple to the ground as she bounced off the rubble, her leg shattered and held in place only by her armor.

Morrigan also saw the flash of light from her perch on the ballista as the life force of the archdemon was carried away. She felt warmth from her abdomen and rested her hands there in a purely instinctive gesture. The warmth increased until she could feel it spreading throughout her body. She felt a presence settle itself into her womb, then go dormant. It was done; the soul of the old god had come. Her task was complete. She climbed down from the ballista, turning toward a nearby door and silently walked away. She hesitated at the door for a moment, turning back to view Lhiannon's crumpled figure and the carcass of the archdemon behind her.

"Goodbye, my friend," she whispered. "And thank you." Wiping away a single tear, Morrigan was gone.

* * *

Loghain opened his eyes and realized that he was lying on the ground, his sword still clutched in his hand, looking up at a bright column of light in the sky. He did not know how he got there; the last thing he saw was Lhiannon burying his silverite sword in the archdemon's skull, the roar of her voice echoing in his ears. He saw that the light was coming from someplace on the roof, but where? Turning his head and looking about, he realized that the light was coming from the archdemon itself. As the light began to fade, Loghain gingerly picked himself up off the ground and saw Lhiannon crumpled in a heap not far way.

"Oh, Maker's breath, no…"

Loghain dropped his sword and ran to her, pulling off his gauntlets and helmet and tossing them carelessly aside as he dropped to his knees next to her. Lhiannon was on her side facing away from him, her leg bent at an impossible angle. He gently rolled her over onto her back. The first thing he saw was the alarming pool of blood growing beneath her. He pulled his hand away from her side and found it slick with blood. He knew that it was not all darkspawn blood or the archdemon's blood; the pungent smell of corruption was not as strong as the smell of copper. The blood was still warm. It was hers and it was pouring out of her. Panic began to wrap its icy fingers around his heart. Looking around, he saw a soldier walking toward the archdemon, no doubt curious about the beast now that it was dead. Loghain turned his full gaze at the soldier and pointed to him.

"You. Soldier!" The soldier looked at Loghain, pulling his attention away from the dead dragon. "Find the mage Wynne immediately. Or any mage."

"Yes, ser!"

Turning back to Lhiannon, Loghain placed his hand on her neck to feel for a heartbeat. It was there, but very faint and uneven. Her skin had taken on a frightening grayish pallor. Her breaths were shallow and he could hear a faint wheeze coming from her mouth. A feeling of dread began to creep upon him. He put his hand on her cheek and leaned close to her, his lips near her ear.

"Lhiannon. Open your eyes. Look at me." Loghain said calmly and firmly, despite the dread that threatened to overtake him. He tried to wipe the blood off her face as best he could. His mouth felt like he had swallowed fire after the blow to his face. Turning his head, he spat out blood flowing from the open sockets where teeth once were.

There was no response from Lhiannon. He raised his head, whipping it from side to side in desperation. _Where is that damned mage?_

Loghain leaned down toward Lhiannon again, speaking to her more forcefully than before, fighting the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her awake. "Lhiannon, you must open your eyes. _Now_." Nothing happened for a moment, but then with what looked like a great deal of effort, her eyes cracked open slightly. Loghain could just barely see the color of her irises; those dark irises that were so completely different from his icy blue ones.

"Loghain?" Her voice was scarcely a whisper, her eyes unfocused. She ever so slightly turned her head toward the sound of his voice.

"Yes. I'm here." His voice was barely above hers. "I will not leave you." Her eyes started to roll back into her head, causing Loghain's stomach to drop. The icy fingers that had wrapped around his heart started to squeeze more tightly. This was not how it was supposed to be, not her on the ground with her blood pouring out and her life fading away. His voice began to break. "Lhiannon, please. You _must_ stay awake. Stay with me. _Please._"

Lhiannon's eyes stopped rolling briefly and finally focused on his. Slowly, she brought her hand up toward Loghain's face. It felt so heavy, like she was lifting the whole of Thedas in that movement. With great effort, two of her fingers brushed along his jaw. A thin smile crossed her face and her hand fell away, landing with a metallic thud on the ground beside her.

"Loghain," she whispered. Then she fell limp and silent.

Loghain's eyes grew wide with terror. Before he could say anything, Wynne's voice was in his ear. "Loghain, please, I need you to move," she said with a quiet determination. Loghain looked up at her and saw the troubled look on her face, but immediately backed away. A second mage, a large man, scurried next to Wynne and they both started placing their hands on Lhiannon, trying to determine the extent of her injuries. A shadow crossed Wynne's face.

"What is it?" Loghain barked. "How badly?"

"Grave," Wynne replied, her eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration. Loghain could see the color draining from her face and felt the pit in his stomach growing ever deeper. "I cannot see the extent of her wounds, but they are widespread. We need to remove her armor so I can see them. However, I cannot treat her here. Moving her will be dangerous, but I don't see where we have any other choice. Are there quarters other than the soldiers' barracks nearby? Officers quarters perhaps?"

"Yes," Loghain replied. "The captain's quarters are just down a small hall from the barracks. We can take her there." He moved to pick Lhiannon up, but Wynne stopped him with a hand to his chest plate.

"You yourself are in no condition to carry her. I would not have you drop her on the way inside. This mage will carry her." Her voice and expression told Loghain she would brook no argument.

"Back away, woman," he snarled at her, bending down to gently gather Lhiannon's limp form in his arms. She seemed so small as he held her. Wynne and the other mage began to lead him toward the fort. Lhiannon's eyes fluttered as if she were trying to stay awake and her arm occasionally quivered as if she were trying to raise it. Blood began to trickle from the corner of her mouth, running down her face and dripping onto Loghain's armor. Loghain could not hold back the tears that ran down his face as he watched her struggle to survive.

* * *

Loghain was exhausted. Though it seemed like every muscle in his body ached and every nerve on fire, he had steadfastly refused to leave Lhiannon's side when she was brought to the captain's quarters at the fort. Wynne and the male mage, who he later learned was named Brenhin, had set to work immediately after Loghain had gently settled Lhiannon on the bed. He heard them hastily removing Lhiannon's armor, dropping the pieces haphazardly on the floor. Loghain paced about the room, feeling helpless and oblivious to his own injuries until he realized he was slowly sinking to the floor. Brenhin saw him falling and rushed over to help him to a nearby chair. "Warden, you are hurt and need your injuries tended to."

Loghain glared at him, but allowed the mage to maneuver him into the chair. "I will be fine. I am _not_ leaving." He glared up at the mage, silently daring Brenhin to challenge him. He had just taken on an army of darkspawn; he would happily take on a mage if it meant he could stay close to Lhiannon.

Wynne turned her head toward him as she continued to work on Lhiannon. "Loghain, please. We need to tend to Lhiannon. You do her no good if you over exert yourself or disrupt us. I _need_ Brenhin to help me," Wynne pleaded. Loghain was alarmed at the desperation in the mage's voice; normally, she was the epitome of calmness. "Please, go outside and have your wounds tended to by one of the other mages. I promise you—I will find you as soon as we stabilize her."

Loghain hated to admit it, but Wynne was right. Snorting irritably, he limped out into the hallway and down to the soldiers' barracks, using the walls for support. A young mage was nearby and immediately rushed over to him. "My name is Timon, ser. Allow me to tend to your wounds." Loghain let him.

It was several hours later and neither Wynne nor Brenhin had emerged from where they tended to Lhiannon in the captain's quarters. Loghain was pacing the floor, his concern and irritation growing with each passing minute. He had removed his armor and found clean clothes in the barracks. Bandages and salves covered large parts of his body. Timon had even made Loghain's broken and missing teeth grow back, which was an odd sensation. Timon had been back and forth gathering supplies for the mages tending to Lhiannon. Loghain tried to stop him several times to ask what was happening, but Timon was too busy scurrying too and fro to answer. As time passed, Loghain became more sullen and irritable. _What is taking so bloody long? _he thought irritably. _She should not be there. I was supposed to protect her!_ At that point he had grabbed a sword off a nearby rack and began to beat it with vicious slashes until finally the rack gave way and collapsed from the assault. Loghain could feel some of his wounds reopening, but he did not care. The sweat from the exertion began to sting in the open wounds on his body, making his temper even shorter. Shaking and sweating, he hurled the sword across the room with a roar and sank down into a nearby chair, propping his elbows on the adjacent table and holding his head in his hands. A short while later, he heard the opposing chair sliding across the floor and heard Wynne settle into it with a heavy sigh.

"She's stable," Wynne simply said, settling her elbow on the table and propping her head up with her arm. She sounded so weary. "I wasn't sure we would be able to heal her. We drained ourselves of mana several times. Thank the Maker that Brenhin and Timon were there."

"What of her injuries?" Loghain asked, his voice thick. He had not bothered to pull his head out of his hands to look at her.

"One of her legs was severely broken; we've reset it but it will pain her for some time. She had several broken ribs. One of her lungs was punctured by a sword or dagger. She has a large, deep cut in the other leg. I think the blade actually went into the bone there. There is a large cut near one of her eyes—she's lucky she didn't lose it. She'll have a scar on her face from that one, but I tried to heal it so it won't be too noticeable. There are scrapes and bruises everywhere. She lost a great deal of blood."

"Is she awake?"

"No," Wynne sighed. "I expect she won't awaken for some time." Wynne paused for a moment before continuing. "We did the very best we could, but her injuries are severe. It is in the Maker's hands now."

"What are you saying?" Loghain growled slowly, bringing his head up and eyeing Wynne suspiciously.

"I'm saying that it's in the Maker's hands, Loghain. If it is His will for her to recover, she will. If not…"

Loghain calmly got up from his chair and marched over to the door beyond which Lhiannon lay. "Loghain, she needs to rest. _You_ need to rest, " Wynne implored. Loghain ignored her. Regardless of Wynne's pleas, he was going to stay with Lhiannon, either until she woke up or…not.

Wynne knew it was pointless to argue with Loghain when his mind was made up and she did not have the strength or the will to do so. She shook her head and walked to one of the cots, sitting down with a sigh. "Loghain…" she began. He paused at the door, his hand on the latch. "Promise me you will fetch me if her condition changes."

"You have my word," he quietly said over shoulder.

Wynne heard Loghain open the door at the end of the hall, then gently close it behind him. She lay down on the cot, pulling the thin blanket up to her chin and letting the exhaustion take her away. Not even the Fade could pierce her sleep.

* * *

The room was of medium size but had several amenities as befitting a captain's station. A small, yet elaborate fireplace was on one wall and a doorway leading out to a small terrace was on the next wall over. There was a desk and chair for correspondence and another small table and two chairs for taking meals. The bed was large, each corner with a heavy post of carved wood. A small fire burned in the fireplace and only two of the wall sconces were lit, casting shadows everywhere and contributing to the feeling of gloom that hung within. Loghain could feel the remnants of magical energy tickling his skin and could smell the odor of herbs and salves hanging in the air.

Lhiannon lay on the bed, alive but lifeless. They had cleaned her up; her hair was still damp and the blood had been wiped off her face. She had a large bandage over her one eye; a deep cut snaking away from under it toward her temple. A blanket covered her body but Loghain could see various lumps underneath that could only be bandages and poultices. Her one leg appeared to have a cushion under her thigh, slightly elevating it. Her arms lay on top of the blanket at her sides; it appeared they had dressed her in a plain cotton shift with long sleeves. He grabbed a chair from nearby and pulled it up next to the bed. Sitting down, Loghain leaned over, his elbows on the bed. He picked up one of her small hands with one of his and caressed her cheek with the other. She was cool to the touch. Through the taint in him could feel the taint within her, but little else.

Loghain watched the steady rise and fall of her chest for some time, holding her cool hand in both of his. A lump had formed in his throat and he desperately fought against it. He was not much of a praying man, but he was praying now. The only verses he could remember in full were two of his mother's favorites, ones that he had heard often as a child. He lowered his head to Lhiannon's hand and began to recite them.

"_Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. _

"_Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood, the Maker's will is written."_

It seemed to be a fitting prayer for what Lhiannon had just accomplished, and he fervently hoped the Maker was listening to him now. "Maker, please bring her back," he continued as he raised his head, gently squeezing Lhiannon's hand and silently urging her to stir. She had awakened something in him that he thought had been dead and it was now, as she lay between life and death, that he realized what it was. At first he thought it was simply lust, the animal attraction between two people thrust together into desperate circumstances. It may have started that way, but as the weeks went by, lust grew into something more. He had felt her need also, especially when they were sparring, but it appeared that she was moving beyond that as well. One woman he loved had already gone to the Maker with so much unsaid; he could not bear the thought of it happening again.

Would it be fair to her though, to lead her down this path? He knew that either death or the Calling would be coming for him long before her. Could he devote himself to her knowing that their years together could be few? The answer, when it came, surprised him.

_Yes_.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to everyone for following along and __reviewing—you__ know who you are! :)_

_A/N2: For writing the battle in the last two chapters, I had several songs looping on my computer to keep me in the right frame of mind. In case you're curious, here they are:_

_-"Broken, Beat, and Scarred" - Metallica (the most fitting lyrics came from this song: "You rise, you fall, you're down then you rise again. What don't kill ya make ya more strong" and "The dawn, the death, the fight to the final breath. What don't kill ya make ya more strong.")  
_

_- "You're Going Down" - Sick Puppies_

_- "Crush 'Em" - Megadeth_

_- "Hero" - Skillet_

_Yep, I'm a rocker. I was a teenager during the hair band heyday, so rock is in my blood. Am I dating myself? Probably. :P  
_


	14. The Longest Hours

It was several hours after Wynne and the mages had finished working on Lhiannon that Loghain heard a soft knock on the door. Wynne had returned to check on Lhiannon and asked Loghain if he could see who was there. Loghain already knew who it was; the taint had told him. He quietly went to the door and opened it; to no surprise, it was Alistair on the other side. A scowl crossed the future King's face as he looked up from his feet and into a pair of icy blue eyes.

"_You_," Alistair spat, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice nor the blind hatred that colored his face.

Loghain was too weary to offer any sort of rebuttal, much less care, but had not moved from the doorway. That Alistair came did not surprise Loghain, nor did the future King's attitude toward him. Wynne looked up to see Alistair glaring at Loghain in the doorway. She quickly turned and moved toward the door.

"The two of you _will not_ behave like anything less than gentlemen while you are here. The differences between you will have to be put aside. I will have both of you put out of this room, regardless if you are the future King," she glared at Alistair, who turned to her with an astonished look on his face. "Or a Grey Warden," turning her glare to Loghain, who kept his indifferent gaze on Alistair. "Is that in any way unclear?" she finished, arms crossed over her chest and waiting for their answers..

Alistair raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze back to Loghain. Loghain shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. Alistair returned his gaze to Wynne and nodded, which prompted Loghain to move from the doorway. Alistair watched him move with thinly veiled contempt.

"I would, however, like to speak with Loghain in private," Alistair began, not taking his eyes of Loghain. "Wynne, would you please excuse us?"

Wynne's gaze moved back and forth between the warriors. Alistair looked like he was spoiling for a fight, while Loghain stood there with a calm coldness. She was not sure this was a good idea, but Loghain sighed wearily and nodded to her.

"Our conversation will not be long," Loghain said, more to Alistair than to Wynne.

Wynne sighed and reluctantly moved toward the door. "Very well, but I will remind you both that there are several guards just down the hallway. They can be here in an instant if the two of you cannot behave like civilized adults. _I_ will be just outside the door." With that, she left, pulling the door behind her but not completely closing it. She did not completely trust either of them. Maker help them both if they could not act civilized.

Alistair turned from where he stood by the door and looked at Lhiannon; _really_ looked at her for the first time. "Maker's mercy," he breathed, running a hand through his slightly longer hair. He had been told that her injuries were severe but was not prepared for the fragile form he now beheld. Even in all their travels to this point, he had never seen her injured this badly. Lhiannon could always shake them off, laughing lightly as she picked herself up off the ground or bandaged her wounds. Alistair approached the bed and took her hand, holding it gently in his own for several minutes. He said a silent prayer to Andraste and the Maker before lowering her hand gently to the bed. He quickly turned to Loghain, his eyes narrowing.

"So, tell me, just how did you manage to pull this off?" Alistair said, crossing his arms on his chest and glowering at Loghain indignantly.

Loghain shook his head in exasperation. "Pull _what_ off?" He had no patience for this. _Couldn't he just say what he came to say and go?_ Maker's breath, his sanctimonious attitude was incredible.

"I met with Riordan after your Joining, before he left for Redcliffe; he told me what happens when an archdemon dies—the Warden dies. I know it wasn't Riordan that finished the archdemon and it obviously wasn't you. I thank the Maker that she still lives, but I would know _exactly_ what happened."

Loghain was silent for a moment. He wanted to tell Alistair that it was none of his damned business, that it was a Grey Warden matter and since he had all but renounced his status as a Warden to be King, he was not privy to such knowledge. But Loghain also knew that Alistair would be here as soon as word got out that Lhiannon woke up, demanding that she tell him what had happened. It would be best to just get it out of the way now and spare Lhiannon the difficult conversation.

"Morrigan," Loghain said slowly, the disgust evident in his voice.

"Morrigan?" Alistair questioned, confusion coloring his voice. "What does Morrigan have to do with any of this? Where is she by the way? Not that I have any great wish to see her, but I would have thought she would be here being, well, bitchy."

Loghain moved toward the terrace door, not quite sure where to begin. "Morrigan knew destroying the archdemon would require sacrificing a Grey Warden. She said her _mother_ told her that there was a way to destroy the beast without sacrificing anyone; that was the reason why Morrigan was sent with you and Lhiannon in the first place."

Alistair scoffed. "I knew both Morrigan and her mother were an archdemon short of a Blight. That still doesn't answer my question, Loghain. How did it happen?"

Loghain walked to the slightly open door, closing it quietly so as not to alarm Wynne. He then turned to look directly at Alistair, his face stony. "Let us drop our ranks for a moment and speak plainly. What I tell you _does not_ leave this room. It _does not_ go beyond the Grey Wardens. You _do not _tell Anora. She will hear it from _me_. If you do not agree to this, you would do well to conclude your visit and leave now. You can hear it from Anora later, should she choose to tell you at all." He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "Is this agreeable to you? Do I have your word as Maric's son and future King?"

Alistair looked at Loghain with narrowed eyes. Whatever it was Loghain had to say, it most likely was not good. Alistair's curiosity grew even greater. He could not _wait _to hear what Loghain had to say. "All right, Loghain," he said slowly, nodding once. "I agree; you have my word. Nothing leaves this room. Nothing goes beyond the Grey Wardens. _You_ tell Anora."

Loghain nodded once, conveying his agreement. "Morrigan told Lhiannon that there was a ritual. Old magic," he sneered.

"And she performed this ritual with Morrigan? As a mage?" Alistair asked, one eyebrow rising and his voice conveying his obvious confusion.

Loghain turned his attention to the fire, staring at it intently. Alistair thought he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "No."

Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to hold back his exasperation. Loghain glanced toward him and wondered if Alistair knew how very much he looked like Maric just now. "Loghain, out with it already. _What happened?_" _Can't the man just get to the point?_ Alistair thought in exasperation. Trying to drag more than two sentences out of Loghain was infuriating to no end.

Loghain took a deep breath and sighed. Alistair saw a look of complete disgust cross his face, as if he had stumbled upon a dead skunk rotting in the hot summer sun for several weeks. "The ritual required that Morrigan be made with child."

Alistair looked confused and he quickly shook his head. "Wh-what? Back _that_ cart up. Made with child? You don't mean…" He looked at Loghain and saw the man was more than distinctly uncomfortable. Loghain looked mortified, something Alistair never thought possible from the man. Alistair turned away and sat down at the small table, his back toward Loghain and his head in his hands. Loghain watched as Alistair's shoulders began to shake and he thought he heard a couple of small noises. Loghain watched for another moment before walking around the table to face Alistair, not completely sure what the man was doing. When he saw Alistair's face, he saw why the man's shoulders were shaking; Alistair was laughing.

"Oh, y-you _slept_ with Morrigan? _That _was the ritual? Oh Maker…!" Alistair could barely get the words out, so great was his snickering.

"Are you quite finished?" Loghain growled through gritted teeth, his fists in knots at his side. He felt the red anger beginning to rise within him. Even worse was the sense of indignity that rose with it. Loghain was not sure which was worse; the marsh witch's smug attitude at the ritual or Alistair's obvious enjoyment of his discomfort.

Alistair was still beside himself with laughter. "Oh, perhaps there _is_ justice in the world. Sleeping with Morrigan _must_ be a punishment for something! Better you than me! I'm surprised she didn't turn on you like a great spider and devour you after mating!" After a few more moments of giggling, snorting, and wiping away the tears that flowed down his face, Alistair finally composed himself. His stomach hurt terribly but it was worth it. Loghain scowled as he walked back toward the terrace door, fists clenched so hard that his nails left deep marks in the skin. What he would not give to be able to ram his fist into Alistair's face right now. The charges of treason might very well be worth it.

Alistair, now more or less composed, looked at Loghain. He took a great deal of pleasure in seeing the man looking so uncomfortable. "So why did you have to do this? What was the importance of getting Morrigan with child…?" Alistair nearly started snickering again, but quickly gained control of himself. "And what does that have to do with the archdemon?"

Loghain took a deep breath to try and calm the rage in his blood. "The witch said that when the archdemon died, the taint would be drawn to the child and purged. The child would be left with the soul of an old god, perfect and free of the taint."

A look of disbelief crossed Alistair's face. "Maker's blood! But why would she do that? Why would she _want_ that?" His brows furrowed in concern, a look of revulsion crossing his features. "Was this blood magic?"

Loghain shrugged. "She said she would raise _it_ as she saw fit and that we would never see her again. She was not forthcoming with details."

Alistair rose from the chair and walked closer to the bed. He brushed Lhiannon's cheek with the back of his hand. She was so pale and cold. Tearing his gaze away, he leveled it at Loghain. "Why then did you agree to perform the ritual? The _real_ reason."

For a moment, Loghain did not say anything. Alistair was about to repeat himself when Loghain turned to look at Lhiannon and finally spoke, his voice so low that Alistair had to strain to hear it.

"Ferelden _needs_ her."

Alistair leveled his gaze at Loghain, his eyes narrowing. He could sense that there was something Loghain was not telling him. He may very well have performed that ritual because Ferelden "needed her," but Alistair _knew_ there was more to it than that. He would bet his life on it. Loghain was still gazing at Lhiannon; Alistair realized that his look was one of genuine concern, and maybe something more. Alistair's eyes widened as the pieces started to fall into place.

_Loghain_ was the one that was with her when the archdemon fell. _Loghain_ was the one who had refused to leave her side after she was brought here. And the look on his face…why else would he have performed that seemingly barbaric ritual?

"You care for her, don't you? After all that has happened?" Alistair asked guardedly.

Loghain whipped his head around to look at Alistair, his face set in stone. "She is my sister in the Grey Wardens," he snapped at Alistair. What exactly Loghain felt, or did not feel, for Lhiannon was none of Alistair's damn bloody business, future King or not.

"You _do_ care for her," Alistair said slowly. It was not a question. He turned to leave, pondering this new revelation. How _dare _Loghain care for Lhiannon, after all he had done? Loghain was not fit to scrape the horse dung off Lhiannon's boots. When Alistair reached the door, he paused. When he spoke, his voice was low and ominous.

"If you hurt her, I swear by Andraste and the Maker, I will kill you myself."

* * *

Loghain had just left Lhiannon's room not long after Alistair's visit to stretch his legs when Anora came bustling around the corner, several bodyguards close behind. She threw herself in Loghain's arms, a small laugh of joy escaping her lips. Loghain glared at the bodyguards and waved them off; they hurriedly turned and left the barracks, closing the door at the end of the hall behind them. Loghain held Anora in his arms for several long minutes, placing a kiss on the top of her head and smoothing her hair as only a father could.

"I'm so glad you're all right," Anora began, pulling away from Loghain and looking up into his face. "I had feared the worst when the reports of a Grey Warden's death arrived at the castle."

"Riordan," Loghain said, eyes going far away for a moment. "We need to find his body. Give him a proper funeral. It was he who injured the archdemon so it couldn't fly."

"Consider it done," Anora said, moving off toward the door and giving the orders to the bodyguards outside. She came back to Loghain's side when she finished. "How is Lhiannon? Alistair said she was the one…"

Loghain nodded and indicated the door just behind them. "She's stable, but badly injured." He paused as he fought the lump that suddenly rose in his throat. "She was magnificent, Anora."

"I would like to see her," Anora stated, taking Loghain's hand and clutching it tightly. He led her to the door and opened it. Anora released Loghain's hand as she entered, moving over to the bed and looking down at Lhiannon's unconscious form upon it. She looked down at Lhiannon for several minutes, her face concerned. Loghain watched as Anora reached down and placed her hand on Lhiannon's.

"Thank you, Warden," Anora whispered, barely audible even in the silence of the room. Loghain stood at the end of the bed, watching the rise and fall of Lhiannon's chest once again. Anora took her hand from Lhiannon's and moved to her father's side.

"What is her prognosis?" Anora asked, turning to look up at her father's haggard face. Loghain quietly scoffed; that was his Anora—directly to the point, as always.

"The mages say it is in the Maker's hands," Loghain said, turning to look down at Anora, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He quietly scoffed and a corner of his mouth turned up in a small grin. "Lhiannon is a stubborn, determined woman. I learned quickly to expect the unexpected from her."

"Ferelden owes her a great debt," Anora said simply, turning to look up at Loghain. "I will grant whatever boon she wishes. She deserves no less."

"The Grey Wardens will need to rebuild their numbers; that will be a great concern to her," Loghain said, guiding Anora toward the small dining table in the room and sitting down, resting his elbows and forearms on top. Anora joined him on the opposite chair, crossing her legs and resting her hands on the raised knee.

"Perhaps I should give Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens," Anora began, nodding slowly. "They can use the fortress at Vigil's Keep as their base of operations." Anora turned to look at Loghain. "As _your _base of operations."

Loghain shook his head. "Lhiannon is the senior Warden in Ferelden now; it will be _her_ that leads us, not me. I will not usurp her position," Loghain said firmly, holding up a finger for emphasis. Though Alistair had been a Grey Warden several months longer than Lhiannon, it was she that truly led them and Loghain knew it. Loghain suddenly chuckled at his statement; the irony of it was not lost on him. He grinned and winked at Anora. "We both know _that_ never works."

Anora returned his grin and nodded, "Just so. Lhiannon will be Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden." Anora paused, her face becoming thoughtful. "As such, I believe I will name her Arlessa of Amaranthine. The Grey Wardens can use the resources of the arling to help them rebuild."

"Do you think it wise to directly involve the Grey Wardens in Ferleden's politics?" Loghain asked warily. From what little he knew of the Grey Wardens, Loghain knew they frowned upon being directly involved in such matters outside the distant Anderfels, not that it stopped them before. Getting overly involved in politics was what had them exiled from Ferelden in the first place.

Loghain paused in his train of thought; perhaps this was an opportunity. The leadership of the Grey Wardens in Thedas was at the far off Weisshaupt Fortress. With Ferelden having just suffered a Blight, and undoubtedly still needing to deal with the remnants of the horde, decisions would need to be made quickly. Having orders and information relayed to and from Weisshaupt would take weeks; Ferelden's Grey Wardens did not have that kind of time to wait before acting. They needed to act and govern themselves independently; perhaps Anora's decision would be the first step in that process.

"The Grey Wardens are already involved in Ferelden's politics, Father. Alistair is to be King; _he_ is a Grey Warden."

"Speaking of your…betrothed…how are you and he getting along?" Loghain asked, concerned for Anora. When last he saw them, Anora and Alistair made no secret of their mutual distrust and dislike of each other. Loghain knew that Anora was a shrewd woman however; she would find a way to work with Maric's bastard.

Anora scoffed, a small grin lighting her face. "We are finding a small amount of common ground, Father. It has not been easy. He is a challenge."

Loghain grinned at her. "I have never known you to pass up a good challenge, Anora."

Anora giggled again before looking at Loghain, arching one of her eyebrows at her father. "And speaking of challenges, you and Lhiannon seem to be working well together now."

Loghain scoffed, turning his head to look at Lhiannon's unconscious form. "We have come to an…understanding…since my Joining." Loghain paused, not wanting to delve too deeply into what he felt for Lhiannon with Anora just yet. He also did not want to broach the subject of Morrigan, but knew he had to. He did not want Anora to have to hear the story from that fool Alistair. Anora deserved to hear it from his own lips.

"Anora," he began, turning back to look at her. "There is something you must know about the battle. We will speak of it now and I would ask that we never speak of it again. It must not be discussed with anyone, especially anyone who isn't a Grey Warden."

Anora's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her defenses beginning to rise. She sat up straight at the table, elbows resting on the top and hands clasped together. "What do you wish to discuss?"

Loghain told Anora of the conversation with Riordan in Redcliffe and the ritual with Morrigan. He did not go into all the details of the ritual; for that Anora was grateful. What she had heard was enough to turn her stomach sour however. "Lhiannon _made_ you do this?" Anora asked angrily, throwing a nasty glance in Lhiannon's direction.

Loghain held up a hand to stop her. "_No_, Anora, she did not. I did it of my own volition. Lhiannon could not bring herself to give that order," Loghain explained, hoping Anora would not hold this Maker forsaken ritual against Lhiannon; that was not what he had intended.

"But _why,_ Father? Why would you do such a thing? I do not like that you were maneuvered into such a position."

Loghain sighed, nodding his head. "We were both maneuvered there by a marsh witch with her own agenda. But, it did work. We survived. Now we can go about rebuilding the Grey Wardens."

"But how could you allow yourself to be manipulated in such a way?" Anora asked indignantly. "You are a pragmatic man; this is not like you." She narrowed her eyes at Loghain, looking at him suspiciously. Her voice grew hard. "Just what sort of 'understanding' did you and Warden Lhiannon come to?"

Loghain sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Anora, it is not…"

"You _will_ tell me," Anora interrupted, her voice telling Loghain that she would permit no argument from him.

Loghain sighed, turning to look at Anora. He could just barely admit to himself what he felt for Lhiannon. He was not ready to admit such a thing to his daughter, the Queen, just yet. "Anora, she is my sister in the Grey Wardens. The understanding was to put the best interests of Ferelden and the Wardens first. That understanding has allowed us to move beyond the past and become friends." _I can admit that much to Anora, at least._

Anora sat at the table, watching Loghain warily. She sensed that there was more to her father's feelings for Lhiannon, but Anora knew well enough that if he were not ready to discuss such a matter, he would not do so. It would be best to table this discussion for later. And they _would_ have it later, she assured herself. She nodded to Loghain.

"Then I am glad to hear it," she said, holding her hand across the table to Loghain. He took it, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "You are the most important thing to me, Father, and I only wish to see you well."

Anora visited with him for a short while longer, before taking her leave to return to the palace. The repairs there were moving along nicely but she wanted to keep a close eye on the progress. Loghain watched her go; despite the difficult conversation they had, she had done wonders to help his melancholy mood.

* * *

Loghain was finally alone in the room with Lhiannon again. Wynne and Brenhin had just left after checking on Lhiannon for what seemed like the thousandth time and changing her soiled bandages. Wynne had admonished Loghain for not taking care of himself over the last few days. Loghain scowled and waved the mage off with barely a word; there were more important things to worry about just now. Lhiannon had still not stirred and the dread grew within Loghain's heart with each passing day.

It had grown dark outside. As was his ritual now, Loghain lit the wall sconces and fed the fire in the fireplace before lighting a desk lantern and settling in a chair across from the bed. Lhiannon had been laying in that bed for several days now, all her companions coming at various times to visit her. Loghain had been annoyed with the constant comings and goings, but kept silent. If he had had his way, they would have all been thrown out on their ears after a few minutes of visiting. This vigil was _his _duty and he would not shirk it.

Loghain was holding a book detailing the history of Ferelden and the line of Calenhad. He had not made it far into the book, finding the he was constantly reading the same paragraphs over and over again as he kept his vigil. However, staring into the book was better than just staring at the four walls. It was not long before he began to doze in the chair, the book falling against his stomach from his slackened hands and the lantern flickering on the table next to him. Had he not been so completely exhausted, he would have felt the slight tickle that brushed his mind through the taint.

* * *

_A/N: This was a hard chapter for me to write. Not too sure why. Sometimes, they just are._

_As always, thanks for the reviews/lurking/reading/bookmarking. Knowing that you enjoy reading the story as much as I do writing it makes my day! :)  
_


	15. My Light in the Darkness

There were voices; at times they were faint and far away. Other times they sounded like they were under water. But the worst part of it all was when there were no voices, just complete and utter blackness with excruciating pain as the only companion. She wanted to scream, tried to scream, but her body refused to respond. She was trapped somewhere between life and death, the real world and the Fade, swimming in a deep black ocean and not knowing which way led to the surface.

A light appeared in the pitch blackness, faint and tiny as if it were miles away. It was not the Fade; of that she was completely certain. It felt _real._ With all the strength she could muster, she moved toward it. As it slowly grew, it became her anchor, something to drive herself toward. As the size of the light grew, its intensity grew as well, enveloping her in gentle warmth. She could hear voices coming through the light as she drew closer. The words were indecipherable, but the familiarity of the tones pulled her forward like a magnet and she passed through it to see what lay on the other side.

Eventually, the light faded and Lhiannon became aware. She had been aware of the pain in her body, but now where there was no pain, the itch was maddening. She could hear small noises. The whisper of her breath as she drew it through her nose. The small popping sounds of logs in a fire. The slight rattle of glass in a window as the wind blew across it. She felt the warm weight of blankets on her and the softness of down filled pillows under her head. She lay on soft bedding.

Her eyes felt like heavy weights were pulling the lids together, but Lhiannon finally managed to get her undamaged eye half open and look about the room. Her eye felt sticky and gritty. It was dark in the room—_what time is it? Is it nighttime_? She could not be sure, as her eye refused to focus on anything for more than an instant. It seemed like only a single lantern or candle was lit. After a few moments her eye adjusted to the small amount of light.

She saw Loghain slouched in a chair across the room, his head lolled forward so his chin rested on his chest. His breathing was deep and even; sleeping then. She saw that he had a book open and resting on his stomach. She started to lightly chuckle but the pain in her chest stopped it cold; she never knew Loghain was a reader.

"Loghain?" she rasped, hoping he would hear her. A hoarse whisper was all she could manage through her raw and aching throat at the moment.

Loghain was not aware he had been sleeping until he heard what he thought was a voice from a dream calling his name; the voice sounded low and sweet. Bleary eyed, he raised his head from his chest and looked toward Lhiannon. He gave a start when he saw her eye open, alert, and looking into his own. He felt his heart leap as the cold fingers of dread began to fall away; he said a quick thank you to the Maker as he rose. Walking over to the chair next to the bed, he gave her a warm smile and sat down. Lhiannon thought his smile made him look so much younger and she felt her heart fluttering in her chest.

"Welcome back," Loghain said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the edge of the bed.

"Loghain, it _is_ you," Lhiannon said, her voice raspy and barely above a whisper. Her eye darted around the room, not recognizing it. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Where are we?"

"We are in the captain's quarters at Fort Drakon."

"What's wrong with my eye? I can't see anything." Lhiannon lifted her hand and felt the bandage there. It was sensitive and pained her to touch. She winced. Loghain gently pulled her hand away from the bandage and set it on the bed. "Your eye was injured but will heal. Wynne said you were lucky you didn't lose it."

"How long have I been here?"

"It has been six days since you killed the archdemon."

Lhiannon's eye widened and looked troubled. "I've been unconscious for _six days_?"

Loghain chuckled. "Yes, the archdemon did its worst to take you down, but you had other plans for it." He paused. "How are you feeling?"

Lhiannon winced. It felt like every nerve in her body was making its presence known; every muscle too. "I'm alive. That's something, right?"

"Indeed it is."

"I think I can feel each nerve in my body; they're all screaming," Lhiannon said, grimacing and chuckling at the same time. She stopped and gave Loghain an intense look. "We really did it, didn't we? We ended the Blight."

Loghain pointed at her. "_You_ did it. I watched you drive your sword into the archdemon's skull. It was both beautiful and terrible."

Lhiannon shook her head slowly, the movement causing the room to spin slightly. "I didn't do it alone. I had you there."

Loghain snorted, but not unkindly. "Do you remember anything of the battle?"

Lhiannon was quiet for a moment, thinking. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She remembered Riordan falling. Bursting out onto the roof of Fort Drakon. The knife in her side. The feel of her blade as it entered the archdemon's head. The bright light. Loghain. "I think remember most of it." She smiled. "The last thing I do remember with certainty is you."

Loghain raised an eyebrow and looked at her questioningly. "Me?"

"Yes. I could feel myself fading. I kept seeing black spots in my vision and felt the pull of the Fade, stronger than I had ever felt it before. I was preparing to go to the Maker…" She hesitated, turning her head away from Loghain, her voice catching in her throat and tears burning in her eyes. She took a hitching breath, which made her wince in pain, but she continued, her voice barely a whisper. "I was at peace because the last thing I saw, the last image I would take with me from this world, was you."

Loghain was taken aback. He stared at her, speechless, and when she turned her head back toward him, a tear had fallen from her open eye.

"I'm so very happy that I came back though…_to find you_," she said, her voice cracking at the end. She raised her hand and brushed it against Loghain's cheek, feeling the stubble there. He took her hand in both of his, looking into her open eye. He felt her hand curl around his own. The warmth was coming back into her skin at long last; just the very tips of her fingers were still cool. He sat there, gently holding her hand in his for some time before he sighed and spoke. "Wynne made me promise that I would fetch her as soon as there was a change in your condition." He paused and smiled. "But I don't want to fetch her just yet."

Lhiannon smiled back at him. "No. Please, stay with me for a while. I would rather not be alone right now."

"For as long as you'd like, though Wynne will not be pleased." Loghain paused, raising his brows in amusement. "That woman is nearly as frightening as any high dragon."

Lhiannon chuckled. "She likely won't be pleased, but she'll get over it."

Loghain paused for a moment, seeming to gather himself, then gently placed a hand on her cheek. He cradled it tenderly and Lhiannon closed her eye for a moment, savoring the feel of his hand, rough and calloused, yet gentle at the same time. She turned her head into his hand. When she opened her eye again, Loghain was looking into it with a serene expression; it was a look she had never seen before now. She could feel his eyes boring into her and her heart began to flutter madly within her chest. She smiled at him and watched as he returned it.

"Help me sit up, Loghain."

"Of course," he said, moving closer and gently helping her into position, propping pillows behind her. She hissed in pain and grimaced as she moved. Her head spun from the movement and Loghain gently held her to make sure she would not swoon and fall over.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. Lhiannon nodded, breathing carefully as she reclined on the pillows behind her. "I'll be fine. I just need a moment." After she waited for the room to stop spinning, she looked at Loghain, trying to see the extent of his injuries.

"How are _you_ feeling? Did the darkspawn injure you badly?" Lhiannon asked him. Loghain found himself chuckling inside; of course she would be more concerned with him than herself.

Loghain shook his head. "I was burned by a spell, but I am healing well. My arm is a bit weak from a stab wound but it should be fine in time. The worst part was having several teeth knocked out." He paused and grimaced. "Mage Timon's spell helped them to grow back. It was strange."

Lhiannon chuckled lightly, the pain keeping her from chuckling long. "I'm sure it was." She looked down at her lap, deep in thought. It was several moments before she spoke again. "I am glad that the Maker's sense of humor brought us together, Loghain. I could not have done this without your help."

"As am I," he said, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

She turned to look at him with her uncovered eye; it narrowed as she took him in. He looked haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes and they looked slightly sunken. His cheekbones were a little more prominent under the stubble on his skin, showing that he had lost some weight. She took her hand from his and brushed a lock of hair away from his face. Clearly, he had not eaten much in these last six days, nor taken much time to clean and shave. Even the braids were missing from his hair.

"You look like hell," she told him, a slight grin turning up a corner of her mouth. "Will your armor even fit you anymore? You can use mine if yours is too big."

Loghain scoffed and chuckled. "Now I know you'll recover."

"What makes you say that?"

He smiled at her. "Your sarcasm has returned."

She chuckled lightly, ignoring the pain that it caused. After a moment, she lowered her head, staring down at the blankets covering her legs. "Thank you," she said solemnly.

Loghain's brown furrowed in confusion. "What for?"

"You helped to save me after the battle. I am in your debt."

"You would have done the same for me," he assured her, taking her hand once again. "No thanks are necessary."

* * *

Word had quickly spread through Denerim that the newly dubbed Hero of Ferelden was recovering. There were spontaneous celebrations in the city and Lhiannon could hear them from her room at Fort Drakon. She had spent another couple of days recovering at the fort, becoming restless from being bedridden for so long. Loghain was rarely away from her side for very long. She had finally insisted that he get some rest himself, but instead of going back to his rooms at the palace, he commandeered another officer's quarters just down the hall.

Now that she was up and cautiously moving about, Anora had insisted that Lhiannon move from the fort to a guest suite at the palace to continue her recovery. Loghain had gone to the palace ahead of her to speak with Anora and have Lhiannon's rooms prepared.

Lhiannon's suite in the guest wing of the palace was spacious and elegant. One of the palace servants, thrilled to pieces to be assigned to the Hero of Ferelden, had gushed to her about the room, showing her everything inside. The main room was furnished with elegant overstuffed chairs, a lounge, and rich wooden tables, each item costing a small fortune. The walls were covered in brightly colored tapestries and the ceiling crossed with heavy wooden beams. A large, elaborate desk with a high chair sat near a corner of the room. There were plenty of sconces in the walls to light the room brightly at night. There was a set of double doors that opened out over the palace courtyard. She could see the main square of Denerim as well.

The bedroom had the largest bed she had ever seen. It was raised so high off the floor that she needed a step to get into it. Each corner had an elegantly carved wooden post and silken netting drifted down from the ceiling to enclose the bed. A large washing tub of stone was in the corner near the window, so one could look outside while having a bath. There were ornate dressers and vanities in the room. It was luxurious.

Wynne had again visited her to check on her injuries once she was settled at the palace. Lhiannon was healing nicely but it would still be several days before she felt like her old self again. She also had a slight limp from the broken leg; Wynne told her it would pain her for a while yet, especially when it rained. Wynne brought her a walking stick, telling Lhiannon that she should use it for the next few days while the bones continued to heal. The bandage from Lhiannon's eye had also been removed, the light hitting it immediately caused it to ache and water profusely. Wynne gently closed it with a finger and whispered a spell; the eye felt better instantly.

"Child, you have used more of my mana that I care to count these last few days," she gently teased Lhiannon. "Take care of yourself for awhile." Lhiannon gave the mage a long hug before nodding her thanks and watched as Wynne gracefully glided out the door.

Lhiannon walked over to the double doors and opened them to allow the fresh air and afternoon sun into her suite. She was still feeling a little weak and shaky but grateful to be on her feet nonetheless. She walked out onto the balcony and stood there, leaning onto the edge and looking below. She watched as palace servants and freedmen worked in the courtyard, repairing damage to the palace walls and cleaning up debris. Looking out into the city, she saw the citizens also cleaning up the debris and scrubbing soot from buildings. From beyond the city walls, dark smoke rose into the sky. _That must be where they are burning the bodies_. Lhiannon shivered. There had been so many bodies…

A knock on her chamber doors brought Lhiannon's attention back to the present. Using her walking stick, she cautiously made her way to the door. Upon opening it, she saw Loghain on the other side, dressed in his repaired and gleaming silverite armor. Behind him was a palace servant, a cloth bundle in her hands. Lhiannon hobbled aside and motioned for Loghain and the servant to enter.

"Loghain," she said warily, watching the servant as she went toward the bedchamber. "What is this?"

Loghain's face was caught somewhere between a grin and a grimace. "Anora has _requested_ an audience with us as soon as you are able. Which means now."

Lhiannon chuckled. "She's not wasting any time, is she?"

Loghain also chuckled. "She's a politician. Very direct when she wants something."

"My lady," the servant called out, bowing to Lhiannon respectfully. "I have brought you fresh clothing to wear to your audience with the Queen."

Lhiannon turned to look at Loghain, an eyebrow raised at him. He stepped just outside her chamber doors. "I'll be waiting for you here. I suggest you hurry; Anora can be impatient."

* * *

Not long after, Lhiannon and the servant exited the door from Lhiannon's suite. Loghain was waiting on a bench outside, as promised. He looked Lhiannon up and down appreciatively as she closed the door behind her. The servant had brought Lhiannon a simple long dress of deep scarlet. Her hair was unbound and hung down past her shoulders, straight as an arrow. Lhiannon gave Loghain a shy smile as she turned toward him, her walking stick in hand. He motioned for her to go and he walked beside her to the throne room, slowing his pace for her and offering his arm for support when she needed it.

Anora sat on the throne to receive them; Alistair was seated on another chair to the side of the dais. As he was not King yet, he would not be sitting on what was to be his throne. Lhiannon noticed his face looked hard as he watched Loghain walk beside her toward the dais. Standing off to the side were several guards and the palace chamberlain. Loghain and Lhiannon both bowed to the Queen, who rose from the throne to greet both of them.

"Father. Lhiannon. I'm glad you were able to come so quickly," she smiled to both of them, coming down the steps to speak to them. Lhiannon was not sure if the smile the Queen gave to her was genuine or practiced.

"You asked to see us?" Loghain began.

"Yes, I have a bit of business to conduct that cannot wait." She lowered her voice so that only Loghain and Lhiannon can hear. "This is business I need to do before the coronation, you understand," making a small gesture toward Alistair. _Cheeky_, Lhiannon thought to herself. Anora was going to do something now before Alistair could be officially crowned as King; Lhiannon surmised that after the coronation, Anora could have fights on her hands with Alistair over anything and everything.

Anora turned toward Lhiannon. "However, before I begin, I wanted to thank you for what you and the Grey Wardens have done. You have saved Ferelden from being overtaken by the Blight, and it is a debt we can never adequately repay. If there is a boon I can grant—anything at all—you need only name it."

Lhiannon bowed her head, not sure of what else she should do. "Your Majesty, I'm not concerned about a boon right now. I only wish to serve Ferelden and the Grey Wardens; however, my main concern is building our numbers again. The Grey Wardens are still too few. There is the remainder of the horde to think about and that will be my focus as soon as I am over my injuries."

Anora nodded to Lhiannon, then turned and indicated to Alistair and the others on the dais that they should step forward. "Let it be recorded that I, Anora Theirin, Queen of Ferelden, officially recognize Alistair Theirin as the crown prince of Ferelden. An official wedding and coronation will take place one month from today.

"Let it also be recorded that the Arling of Amaranthine will be given to the Grey Wardens so that they may rebuild their numbers. With that, Lhiannon Amell will be Arlessa of Amaranthine and Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Finally, let it be recorded that I pronounce Loghain Mac Tir Teyrn of Gwaren once again, effective immediately."

Loghain gave Anora a puzzled, somewhat irritated look. He beckoned her closer so he could speak to her without everyone present overhearing. "Teyrn, Anora? Are you sure about this? I have new duties with the Grey Wardens that could keep me away from Gwaren for some time."

Anora's eyes narrowed at her father. "I seem to remember while growing up in Gwaren that you were away for many months at a time. You gave orders through correspondence that Mother and the seneschal followed, so you are well practiced at this. Besides, I have enough to deal with at the moment."

"What do you mean?" Lhiannon asked quietly.

"I have the upcoming wedding and coronation to manage. There is also the issue of preparing Alistair to rule; he's told me more than once that he will not sit idly by while I rule alone, so I must find some sort of compromise we can both live with." Anora turned her attention to Loghain. "I also must focus on rebuilding Denerim and the parts of Ferelden that were ravaged by the Blight. I don't need a gaggle of squabbling nobles fighting over such an important piece of the Ferelden nobility."

"Anora…" Loghain began, his voice imploring her to listen.

The Queen held up a hand to silence her father. "I entrust _you _with this duty. I know you can do this. It would ease my mind greatly to know that you _will_ do this."

"Perhaps it is time for new blood in Gwaren, Anora," Loghain suggested.

Anora scoffed angrily at Loghain, her eyes shining with a bright fury. "And who would _you_ suggest? Arl Eamon? You know that if I don't quickly appoint a Teyrn the nobles will want to call another Landsmeet and they would immediately put him forward as the most likely candidate. I would rather throw myself on your sword than to see that bastard Teyrn of Gwaren. I shall give him no such honor after what he tried to do with Cailan. He can languish in Redcliffe until the next Blight comes."

"What about Bann Teagan?" Loghain suggested. "The other nobles would not object to a Guerein becoming Teyrn and Teagan would do well there."

"_No._" Anora stated firmly, raising her voice so that all could hear. "I have made my decision." She pointed directly at Loghain, her voice and face both set in stone. "_You _are the Teyrn of Gwaren. _That is final._"

Anora took a step back and looked at both Loghain and Lhiannon, her face softening somewhat. "You will both take private oaths now, but I will also have you take them publicly at court." Within moments, the oaths were done and Lhiannon found herself with a noble title and house, not to mention a horde of butterflies settling into her stomach. What does a mage know of nobility? She may not have cared about Ferelden politics before, but here she was, right in the middle of it. Loghain saw the look of dread on her face and laughed to himself. He imagined he looked just like that when Maric elevated him to Teyrn of Gwaren after Meghren was defeated.

* * *

Lhiannon was lighting the wall sconces in her chambers later that evening when she heard a knock on the door. She debated not opening the door as the taint told her who was out there. However, if she could sense her guest, her guest could also sense her. With a feeling of dread and sadness, Lhiannon limped to the door and opened it. Alistair stood on the other side, his face impassive.

"May I come in?" he asked tonelessly. Lhiannon moved aside and motioned him in.

"Alistair," she said cautiously. "How are you?"

He sighed and offered her a wan smile. "I suppose I'm ready to face my destiny. You know, be the King, rule Ferelden, live happily ever after with my blushing bride…" his voice trailed off. Lhiannon looked uncomfortably at the floor, not sure what to say, so saying nothing.

"Hey," Alistair said softly, coming forward and lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He ran his hands nervously through his hair. Lhiannon noticed that he was growing it longer; it suited him. "I haven't seen you much since, well, you know, and…" His voice trailed off. He was clearly extremely anxious about something. Lhiannon paused and waited for him to go on. After a moment he took a deep breath and continued.

"What about Loghain?" he finally asked her, turning to pace about the room and still looking uncomfortable.

"What of him?" Lhiannon looked at Alistair warily.

"You know, he rarely left your side. At Fort Drakon."

"That's what I understand."

Alistair paused before continuing. "I know about the ritual."

"I see," Lhiannon said quietly.

Alistair sighed, holding his hands out to her. "How, Lhiannon? How can you call him brother? How can you call him _friend? _Are you mad?"

She glared at Alistair, feeling both bewildered and annoyed with him. "Alistair, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here. I couldn't have killed the archdemon without his help. He is becoming a fine Grey Warden and a good friend." She paused briefly before shaking her head and scoffing lightly. "I know that sounds bizarre, given our past history. But…the Maker does indeed have a strange sense of humor, Alistair. He does what He wants."

Alistair shook his head at her, turning toward one of the vanities and running his fingers across the top. "I certainly hope you know what you're doing," he said quietly.

Lhiannon looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say or do. Alistair finally turned back toward her and ran his hands through his hair one more time. This whole conversation was exasperating.

"What I really came here to say is thank you," he said, his voice growing soft. "You've done extraordinarily well. I may not have agreed with everything that's happened, but I know you did it with Ferelden's best interests at heart. Were it not for you, there would be no kingdom."

Lhiannon limped to a nearby table, avoiding Alistair's look. She placed her hands on the table, as if steadying herself. After a pause, she finally spoke in a small voice. "Alistair, can we ever be friends again? I know you must hate me for what's happened. For what I've done…"

Alistair rushed forward and took her hands in his own and held them firmly. His gaze was both hard and compassionate. "I was very angry with you, but I _never_ stopped being your friend, Lhiannon. _Ever_," he said with absolute conviction.

Lhiannon gently pulled her hands from his and brought them up to her face, the sheer relief that washed over her causing tears to fall from her eyes, unbidden. She had reconciled herself to the fact that those words would never be used between them again and hearing them now simply overwhelmed her. Alistair looked at her a bit awkwardly at first; he had not realized just how much this whole business affected her. He then came forward and gave her a gentle hug. She allowed him to hold her for a moment and then backed away, wiping the tears from her eyes with her hands. She took a deep breath and, smiling, looked up at him.

"Thank you, Alistair."

He gave her a kiss on her cheek and smiled. "Well, I'll leave you to rest. I'll see you soon."

A heavy burden fell off Lhiannon's heart and as she closed the door behind Alistair, she wept with relief and joy.

* * *

_A/N: I know what you're thinking…teyrn? Well, at the end of DA:O, if the boon you ask for is a title and all the riches that go with it, the Warden can be named Teyrn, so it's available. Anora gave most of my reasons why; she's got a lot to do and doesn't need a bunch of nobles jumping up and down, waiving their hands and shouting "PICK ME! PICK ME!" __Besides, she hates Eamon and has no qualms about seeing him rot in western Ferelden. __Please indulge me this one thing; I have a use for it. ;)  
_

_I also need to thank Arsinoe de Blassenville as inspiration for the title name. One of her reviews said Lhiannon was the light in Loghain's shadows. I thought that sounded really cool, so I gave it a twist and took it for the chapter name. Thanks Arsinoe!_

_And thanks again to everyone lurking, bookmarking, reviewing, etc. It means a whole heck of a lot and is very encouraging!  
_


	16. Damn My Foolish Heart

Lhiannon had been to a small library within the castle after dinner, looking for any sort of books on her new arling, Amaranthine. She had never been there before and did not have the faintest idea of what it was like. Was it fertile? Forested? Hilly? The only thing she knew with any certainty was that it lay on the northern coast. She finally found one small tome on Amaranthine and took it back to her chambers. She turned the corner near her guest suite and looked up to see Loghain knocking on her door.

"I'm not there," she called out to him.

"I can see that now." He looked at the book in her hands. "What are you reading?"

"I was trying to find something on Amaranthine," she explained, opening the door and entering her suite. Loghain followed behind her and shut the door. Lhiannon limped over to the seating area and sat on the long sofa. "I've never been there before and now I'm Arlessa. Maker's breath, what have I gotten myself into?"

Loghain sat on the other end of the sofa, a sardonic grin on his face. "So you're a noble as well. I thought you didn't give a damn about Teyrns, Arls, or Banns."

Lhiannon rolled her eyes at him. "Looks like I don't have much choice in the matter now."

Loghain settled deeper in to the cushions of the couch. "I'm taking a quick trip to Gwaren before the wedding and coronation. I haven't been there since before Ostagar and I need to make my presence known again."

Lhiannon nodded. "I'll be using the time between now and then to learn what I can about Amaranthine and running a noble house. I understand the seneschal there is quite capable, but I still need to know how to govern." She grinned at Loghain. "That wasn't one of the subjects taught at the Circle; you know—magic must serve, not rule,"

"Come with me," Loghain suddenly offered. "I may not be the best example on governing, but I would be willing to let you observe." He paused, looking at her with the corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. "I would not see you sent to the wolves unprepared."

Lhiannon laughed. "I'm glad someone doesn't want to see me torn apart by them." She paused, considering. "I'd be glad to accompany you to Gwaren. When do we leave and how long does it take to get there?"

"I'd like to leave tomorrow, if you're up to it."

"I think the fresh air would do me some good."

"We will arrive in just under a week if we take our time; less if we hurry. It's not a straight path from Denerim; we take the West Road to South Reach, then follow the Brecilian Passage from there. That is what takes the most time. I have already sent a messenger to have the seneschal prepare for our arrival."

"Tomorrow it is then," Lhiannon agreed.

A knock on the door drew their attention. Lhiannon moved to the door, sensing Alistair just beyond it. _He won't be happy to see Loghain here,_ she thought, grasping the handle of the door and pulling it open. Alistair gave her a warm smile, which quickly faded when he saw that Loghain was seated on the sofa inside.

"Alistair, would you like to come in? Loghain and I were just discussing Amaranthine," Lhiannon said, moving from the doorway and trying to keep her voice light. She saw Alistair hesitate briefly before nodding.

"I would. There are a couple of things I'd like to discuss with the two of you being here."

Lhiannon heard Loghain scoff quietly behind her and she turned toward him, giving him a look that both conveyed concern and annoyance. The last thing she wanted was the two of them at each other's throats when there were far greater things to worry about.

Alistair glared at Loghain, his hands crossed over his chest. "I can't believe Anora made _you_ Teyrn. _Again_. You don't deserve such an honor."

Loghain scoffed, but remained seated on the sofa, unconcerned. "Anora did not appoint me Teyrn to convey an honor. I questioned her decision when she announced it."

Alistair took a menacing step toward Loghain, who rose from the sofa to meet Alistair's challenging glare. Lhiannon watched them warily, not sure of where this conversation was going.

"I don't think you protested hard enough," Alistair spat. "I think you _wanted_ this; you want to stay as close to the throne as possible in case you need to 'help' Anora and Ferelden again. Your 'help' worked out so well before, _Your Grace._"

"Anora made me Teyrn to keep Ferelden stable, you bloody idiot," Loghain snarled at him. "In case you haven't noticed, Ferelden just suffered a Blight. It has weakened us, whether you wish to admit it or not. Anora has decided that making me Teyrn is in Ferelden's best interests."

Lhiannon watched as Alistair's face began to turn red with the depth of his anger. He moved toward Loghain threateningly, the space between them narrowing even further as his hands folded into tight fists. "But you _killed_ Duncan and the Grey Wardens! _That_ entitles you to such an honor?"

Loghain closed the distance between them, looming over Alistair and snarling into his face. "And Cailan was a fool. He would have taken the rest of Ferelden down with him in his ignorance."

Both men stopped when the glowing point of Lhiannon's staff suddenly appeared between them, pulsing an angry red and throwing off enough heat to make them both take a step back. They turned to look at Lhiannon, who gritted her teeth and snarled at both of them.

"The two of you," she began slowly, her voice low and ominous, "will stop acting like a pair of blight wolves fighting for dominance." She looked at each man in turn as she spoke to him. "You are to be King of Ferelden in one month," she growled at Alistair before turning to Loghain with the same tone of voice. "And you are Teyrn of Gwaren. Anora will need _both_ of you behind her in the coming months as Ferelden is rebuilt and the remnants of the horde are dealt with.

"You need to find a way to work together. If you can't do it for the sake of Ferelden, then Andraste's blood do it for the Queen's sake. She has enough to worry about without her father and husband at each other's throats." Lhiannon paused, watching the anger slowly drain out of Alistair and Loghain's faces. After several moments of silence, she continued. "Have I made myself clear, gentlemen?"

Alistair and Loghain glared at each other for a brief moment. Loghain was first to take a step backward, his fists unclenching. Alistair unclenched his own fists and ran his hand through his hair. Lhiannon nodded in satisfaction and pulled her staff away, the glow from the end quickly fading as the magical energies dissipated.

Loghain turned toward Lhiannon, the anger dropping from his face as he looked at her. "I shall leave you to your research on Amaranthine. I would like to depart for Gwaren early tomorrow. Meet me at the stables at dawn and we shall be on our way."

"Dawn it is then," Lhiannon nodded in agreement. "Good night, Your Grace."

"Good night, Commander," Loghain nodded, walking around Alistair and out of Lhiannon's chambers. Alistair watched him leave out of the corner of his eye. Once he was gone, Alistair turned to glare at Lhiannon in surprise and disbelief. "You're going to Gwaren _with him_? Whatever for?"

Lhiannon went to the sofa and sat, motioning for Alistair to do so as well. "I need to see the workings of court first hand; I don't want to go into Amaranthine blind. There will likely be no such opportunity here in Denerim before I must leave for Amaranthine. I hear the seneschal there is capable, but I don't want it to seem that he's pulling the strings." She looked at Alistair, who had settled himself into the cushions at the other end of the sofa. "Did you know Anora was going to name Loghain Teyrn again?"

Alistair sighed and nodded slowly. "I suspected it. Anora did tell me afterward that she believed Ferelden was fragile now and making him Teyrn will impart some stability. I know she did it before the coronation because I would have no say in it now. That was backhanded of her."

"Loghain helped end the Blight, Alistair," Lhiannon said, nervously fingering the earrings in her ear. "He truly is becoming a fine Grey Warden. And Anora is right; Ferelden is very fragile right now. I'm sure there are some who would see our weakness as an opportunity."

"Are you talking the Orlesians?" Alistair asked, grimacing as he spoke. "Really, Lhiannon?" He paused, looking at her with brows furrowed. "You sound like _him_ now."

"It's not just Orlesians, Alistair. Having such an important part of Ferelden leaderless could cause internal problems. There would be all manner of nobles trying to curry favor using intrigue and guile to try and become Teyrn. We don't need to start fighting amongst ourselves…again. In that respect, she's right."

Alistair leaned forward, gesturing with his hands. "But this would have been the perfect time to name Arl Eamon the Teyrn of Gwaren. He's a good man and would have served Ferelden well there."

Lhiannon sighed wearily. "Alistair, Anora knows that Arl Eamon tried to have Cailan put her aside."

"So Anora made Loghain Teyrn out of spite?"

Lhiannon shook her head. "I think it more likely that she picked who was best for Ferelden. Loghain has been a Teyrn a long time and has, for the most part, served Ferelden well in that capacity. The crown needs stability now." She paused, leaning over to Alistair and putting a hand on his arm. "Alistair, once you become King, you need to focus on an heir."

Alistair looked up at her, a look of mild revulsion crossing his face. "Eeww."

Lhiannon chuckled at him, earning a small smile in return. "I know you and Anora have a long road ahead of you, but you must find a way to work together. Ferelden needs you both and you need to put its best interests first. That means an heir to the line of Calenhad."

"But you know how hard it can be for a Grey Warden to have a child."

"You need to try, Alistair," Lhiannon told him, taking his hand in her own. "If the Maker wills it, it will happen. Ask the mages to help you; they know a great deal about having children."

Alistair looked at Lhiannon, his eyes almost pleading with her. "But I don't love her. Andraste's blood, I don't even like her very much."

Lhiannon gripped Alistair's hand more tightly. "Do you both want what's best for Ferelden?"

"You know _I_ do, Lhiannon."

"Anora does as well. Let that be your foundation. Work together on what is best for Ferelden, Alistair. I know you'll find a way." Lhiannon paused, looking into Alistair's eyes and grinning at him. "Give her some of that charm you're so good at. Melt her ice."

Alistair scoffed at her, shaking his head. "You are so bad." He sighed wistfully, squeezing Lhiannon's hand gently. "I've missed talking with you, Lhi. You always helped me find my way."

Lhiannon smiled at him. "And I'll always be here, Alistair."

* * *

Lhiannon was awake and dressed in her riding leathers well before sunrise, her newly repaired elven armor gleaming brightly in the lamplight of her suite. She finished putting extra clothing and supplies into her pack and set them outside her suite before turning to pack up her armor. A servant was nearby to help carry her belongings out to the stables, where Loghain was no doubt waiting for her. She picked up her staff and closed the door behind her. She felt slightly naked without a sword; the sword she used to kill the archdemon was currently being mounted to a plaque to be displayed in the throne room. Loghain would have to search for a new sword, since Lhiannon had used his. He had grumbled a bit at losing the sword, but Lhiannon thought he was looking forward to procuring a new one. She planned on tagging along to find one for herself; she would need his expertise, as she had almost no idea what to look for in a sword.

Lhiannon chatted amiably with the servant carrying her packs. The servant was an elf and had many questions about Lhiannon's armor. Was it from Elvhenan? What kinds of enchantments were woven into it? Lhiannon patiently explained what she knew of the armor as they walked across the palace grounds to the stables. As she suspected, Loghain was indeed there, wearing his studded leathers and securing packs to his horse. The servant glanced nervously at Loghain before bowing and scuttling away.

"Let's be off," Loghain said as the sun began to clear the distant horizon. "We can be halfway to South Reach by nightfall if we make good time." As they traveled, Lhiannon noticed that Loghain's mood seemed to be lighter than usual. He bantered with her a bit as they traveled and seemed to enjoy the landscape around them.

"You are in quite the mood, Loghain," Lhiannon commented as they trotted side by side down the West Road.

"It is a refreshing change of pace to be traveling somewhere where war doesn't have to be either fought on the way or when we arrive at our destination."

Lhiannon nodded her agreement. "It is at that. It's been a long time since I've traveled somewhere where there wasn't war to be fought or messes to clean up."

Loghain chuckled. "I can assure you, there will be no messes in Gwaren. My seneschal knows better. I have put the fear of the Maker into him for years."

"Tell me about him," Lhiannon prompted.

"His name is Thorne and he's been in my service for a dozen years or so. He's capable, not overly ambitious, and he's also a complete fool."

"A _fool_? I can't imagine you having someone like that in your employ."

Loghain snorted. "A fool in that all I have to do is look at the man and I'm sure one day he will wet himself. He fears me and that isn't a bad thing."

Lhiannon laughed. Loghain appeared to be his old self after the battle with the archdemon. Which reminded her…"Loghain, how are your wounds from the battle? Are they bothering you much?"

"Not badly. The skin itches where the burns are healing. My arm is numb on occasion, but improving."

"Let me know if you would like some healing," Lhiannon offered. Loghain nodded, falling into his usual silence. They continued their trip toward South Reach, stopping at a small village when the sun was nearly set. Loghain was familiar with the inn in the village, having stayed there many times over the years. Taking the packs from their horses, Loghain led them inside to get rooms for the night.

They sat at a corner table in the common room of the inn, eating a hearty soup with fresh baked bread from the kitchen. The innkeeper's wife kept bringing more food out to them, their Grey Warden appetites fully engaged. Both had tankards of the local ale in front of them. Lhiannon found the brew to be smooth, much better than some of the ales she had from northern Ferelden. They had secured rooms for the night and left their packs and armor behind while they ate.

"Loghain, I want you to be my second in command of the Grey Wardens," Lhiannon began, raising her tankard of ale at the barkeep. He quickly brought both of them more ale.

"I accept. I'm sure it was a hard decision for you, with all the competition among the Grey Wardens." he drawled mockingly. "At least I know I'll be reporting to you. I don' t care for how the Grey Wardens report to no one."

Lhiannon nodded her agreement. "As do I. I think we will eventually be answering to the crown, seeing as that we are part of Amaranthine; we'll have to see. I can understand how not answering to anyone can breed mistrust." Loghain raised an eyebrow at her. "You taught me that," she told him, tipping her tankard toward him.

"I gathered up some of the archdemon's blood while you were recovering at Fort Drakon," he continued, spooning a mouthful of soup into his mouth. Lhiannon looked at him warily over her tankard of ale as Loghain spoke. "I read Riordan's papers after I confiscated them; before the Landsmeet. They told of how the ritual was prepared."

"Do you still have those papers?" Lhiannon asked guardedly. She had hoped he kept those records, or at least made copies before destroying the original ones.

Loghain nodded. "Yes. They are in a safe place in Denerim. When we go to Vigil's Keep, I'll bring them along."

Lhiannon nodded, relieved, setting her tankard on the table. "I would also like you to help recruit and train new Grey Wardens. Who could turn down the Hero of River Dane when he comes looking for Wardens?" She flashed a grin at him and he found himself returning it. _She's striking when she smiles_, he thought.

"If that is what you wish."

"It is," she replied, setting her spoon down and wiping her mouth with a napkin. She was finally full and beginning to feel tired from the riding. She still was not completely healed yet and found herself tiring easily.

Loghain was also nearly finished with his meal. He was still not used to his Grey Warden appetite. He had eaten meager meals and rations for so long he felt like a glutton now. As he went to set his empty tankard on the table, he moved his arm just so, causing his injury to flare and making the arm and hand go numb. The tankard clattered to the floor, drawing a concerned look from Lhiannon.

"Are you all right?"

Loghain waved her off, irritated. "It's nothing," he grumbled as he returned the tankard to the table.

Lhiannon stood up and beckoned him along. "If your arm pains you, let me heal it. Come, let me look at it."

"Lhiannon," Loghain began, warning in his voice. "It will be fine."

"Nonsense. Let me help you." She raised a brow at him and smirked. "Don't make me order it."

Loghain sighed, exasperated. "You need not fuss over me like an old woman." However, he knew arguing with Lhiannon was futile. He rose from the table and they climbed the stairs to where their rooms were.

Loghain entered his room first, Lhiannon following a step behind. She shut the door behind them and turned to see Loghain massaging his numb hand. She gently took his hand and began to whisper the healing spell. Her thumbs worked their way out from the center of his palm and Loghain could feel the numbness subside as the warmth of the healing spell traveled up his arm. Her hands moved over his hand gently but firmly for several moments. Her hands gradually stopped moving, still holding his hand in hers. She took a tentative step closer to him and he could faintly smell the soap she used that morning to wash her hair. It smelled like lilacs. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent.

Lhiannon watched his face relax as his eyes closed and she could feel the longing once again building inside of her. He opened his eyes and looked down into hers, his jaw set. "This is foolish," he said unconvincingly, the desire burning in his blood and nearly driving him mad. He could feel his control beginning to slip precariously.

Lhiannon took yet another step closer to him and could feel his body heat radiating off him. She raised his hand up and placed it on her chest over her heart, feeling the heat of his hand through her shirt. Her pulse began to quicken; Loghain could feel her heart fluttering just beyond the flesh. "Foolish? Very likely," she said quietly, her eyes locked on his. "But I don't care. I believe you don't either." As she spoke, she felt Loghain's free hand settle itself onto the small of her back and pull her closer to him. Lhiannon raised her face his and brushed his cheek with her lips as she spoke. "Let go," she whispered, her voice low with desire.

He pulled away slightly, looking intently into her eyes as if studying them. He brought his hand up to her face, cupping it gently as he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss started slowly, but then began to increase in intensity, the kisses turning hungrier and harder. Lhiannon brushed her tongue up against his teeth and he growled deep in his throat, pushing his tongue into her mouth to chase hers. She wrapped her arms around him and clutched him tightly, pressing herself closer to his body, feeling his growing harness touch her. She moaned into his mouth as he ground himself against her, the sound low and urgent. A deep heat began to spread from her center, her hips helplessly grinding into his as the heat grew. Not taking his lips from hers, Loghain pushed her up against the wall, pinning her in place.

Lhiannon hooked her ankle around the back of his leg, holding him to her as his mouth began to wander down her jaw and neck, sucking and nipping. She buried her hands in his hair, reveling in the surprising softness of it. His mouth worked its way back up to hers and she was crushed under his lips again, the intensity of his kiss leaving her breathless. She held his face to hers as he ravaged her mouth; teeth and tongue working her over in a delightful frenzy. Hands roamed over bodies, learning and plundering the new landscape. Loghain's hands brushed across Lhiannon's breasts and she sighed with pleasure into his working mouth. His hands moved to the ties on her shirt, pulling the laces open…when a knock at the door stopped them both in place. Their kiss broke abruptly and they looked into each other's eyes, their shoulders slumping in disappointment and foreheads touching.

"Andraste's flaming arse," Lhiannon sighed, breathless.

"Indeed," Loghain agreed as they untangled themselves from one another. Loghain went to the door and pulled it open, scowling at the interruption. "What is it?" he growled at the servant outside the door.

"Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but we've received reports of bandits on the road between here and South Reach. We wanted to let you know to be wary if you venture outside tonight."

"Thank you," he snarled, slamming the door in the servant's face. _Bloody bastard_. He turned to look at Lhiannon, running a hand through his hair. "We should probably retire for the evening. We have a lot of riding to do tomorrow."

Lhiannon reached up and stroked his cheek before she turned to leave. "Good night, Loghain."

* * *

"Holy Maker. Oh wow."

Lhiannon quietly closed the door behind her after leaving Loghain's room just next door. Leaning her back against it, she slid down to the floor with her knees up and her forearms resting on them. Her heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of her chest. She could feel the burning need in her leaving a dull ache in her abdomen. Just how far would they have gone had the servant not interrupted them with news of bandits? How far would she have let him go? She put her head in her hands and realized that if they had not been interrupted, she would have let him go as far as he liked; she had wanted no less herself.

She wanted _him_, body and soul.

* * *

Loghain awoke the next morning after a fitful sleep. He had lain awake in his bed for most of the night, and not simply because the bed was strange and uncomfortable. In his mind he kept replaying the passionate moment he and Lhiannon had shared just scant hours before. He would have taken her had they not been interrupted, of that he was sure. The heaviness in his loins confirmed it. While he was ready to abandon all reservations the previous evening, in the cold light of dawn, doubt began to creep back to gnaw at him. It would not be fair to her to lead her this way; heartbreak at the hands of death or the Calling was the only thing that would be found at the end of this path.

Loghain rose from the bed and dressed, donning his leathers in the darkness of his room. He quickly scanned the room to make sure he would leave nothing behind before picking up his packs and heading down to the common area. He half expected to see Lhiannon there, wolfing down a quick breakfast before they continued their journey to Gwaren. As he entered the room, there was no one there but a servant and the cook. The cook offered a hot breakfast to him, but he was satisfied with taking a few sweet cakes and pieces of fruit that he could eat on the trip. He stashed his breakfast into a pack then walked out to the stalls to begin saddling his horse for the day's journey.

As Loghain neared the barn, he heard Lhiannon chatting amiably with the stable boy. He rounded the corner to find that her horse was already brushed and saddled, the packs already in place. Lhiannon was crouched down and securing the saddle to Loghain's own horse, the stable boy trying in vain to talk her aside so he could perform the duty.

"Nonsense," she gently admonished him. "I can do this myself. I'm grateful for the exercise it brings. I have recently laid in bed for a week and now I feel the need to burn off some energy."

Reluctantly convinced, the stable boy turned his attention to the other horses in the stalls and began to feed and brush them. Loghain approached his horse and began to fasten his packs to the saddle as Lhiannon finished securing it.

"Good morning," she said, her voice sounding strangely formal to Loghain.

"And you. Are you ready to ride?"

She nodded, turning to her own horse without meeting his eyes. "Yes, let's be off."

They rode in silence for some time, putting the inn behind them as they continued their journey toward South Reach. Loghain had told Lhiannon that they should be there well before sunset tonight, should the weather remain fair. He also thought about possibly continuing on past South Reach and onto the Brecilian Passage if they made particularly good time that day. The weather was indeed fair, so it was certainly possible for them to make excellent time.

"Loghain," Lhiannon said questioningly as she brought her horse up next to his. "We should probably discuss what happened last night."

Loghain had been both dreading and anticipating this conversation. He was not a good conversationalist in the best of times; this particular subject would likely make him less so. He sighed, his shoulders dropping. "Perhaps it was a mistake," he said, the words feeling like lies and ash in his mouth. _It's for her own good,_ he kept repeating to himself. No matter how many times he repeated it, trying to convince himself, it still felt like an ugly, cruel lie.

Lhiannon stared down at the reins in her hands; Loghain saw that she was gripping them so tightly she was likely putting dents into the leather of her gloves. "Is that what you truly believe?" she asked quietly. Then she scoffed, her words becoming hard as they left her lips. "I think you fool yourself."

Loghain shook his head slowly. "Lhiannon, you are young enough to be my daughter."

"I am not so young. Age is but a number."

Seeing that she was not to be moved by that argument, he tried the next one that came to mind. "You are my Commander; it would not be proper."

Lhiannon was still looking down at her hands. "Whatever is growing between us took seed long before I was your Commander. Surely you know this. As long as we keep duty and personal business separate, I fail to see a problem."

Lhiannon seemed to have an answer for his every argument and protest. Loghain stared down at his horse's mane, trying his best to keep his face neutral and his eyes away from hers. If he looked into those deep, dark eyes, he would lose what precious little control he had.

"Why do you lie to yourself?" she demanded quietly. "Do you fear this? Should you not take what the Maker offers you?"

Loghain scoffed, thinking back on what the bloody _Maker_ had done for him. The Maker gave him Rowan for all too brief a time before duty called her to Maric and the throne, taking a large piece of his heart with her. Then the _Maker_ took her away and the piece of his heart that she always held died with her, leaving a gaping hole in its place. "The Maker took such things from me long ago."

"He can always return it, Loghain. It need not be gone forever." She paused and Loghain could hear her take a deep hitching breath. "If you truly believe that what happened between us is a mistake in your heart, then it shall end here. But I _know_ in _my_ heart that this is worth pursuing, Loghain. I think you do as well."

Loghain turned to her, watching as she kept her eyes downcast. "And what if we did pursue this?" he said, perhaps more harshly than he intended when her saw her flinch. "Surely you realize that my death or the Calling will come long before yours." He lowered his voice, speaking gently to her. "Where then would that leave you, other than alone?"

Lhiannon suddenly turned to Loghain, her dark eyes flashing with a fire he had not seen in them before. "You think I am unaware of that? And who is to say that _I _will not die before _you_?" she challenged him angrily. As he watched, the fire in her eyes began to extinguish as tears filled them. She fought to keep them from falling. "I would take as many years, or as few, as the Maker sees fit to grant you and treasure each one as His gift."

Loghain was trying to find a new argument to make her see reason, but his mind was in turmoil. He wanted her, yet he wanted to protect her from the heartbreak his eventual departure would cause. It _would_ come before hers; their ages were a testament to that very fact.

Lhiannon turned to face him, her face a mask of stone. "Let me tell you a story. I met a special someone during my time at Kinloch Hold. We loved each other and were committed to each other—before the Chantry took him and made him Tranquil. It destroyed _everything_. His being made Tranquil left a gaping hole in my heart that I thought no one would ever fill. And no one had in the eight years since; I have been alone all that time. Alistair and I were close, but he never filled that hole."

She looked at Loghain with narrowed eyes and when she spoke to him again, her voice was breaking. "And then _you_ came into my life, and eventually that gaping hole began to slowly fill. I never believed it was possible. _You _filled that empty place in my heart." She paused and scoffed harshly before continuing. "Do you even _know_ what that feels like?"

"I do know, better than you think," was his quiet reply.

"Then why do you deny this? I _know_ the fear you feel, opening yourself up once more. I was afraid that I would never feel that way about anyone again. But I hope you can decide that it's a chance worth taking. _I _know it is."

They were silent for several moments, horses walking side by side along the path. The wind was gently whistling through the trees. The birds, however, had gone silent, as if knowing their cheery song would not be welcome among the two travelers in their midst.

"Why did you weep for me?" Lhiannon asked quietly, breaking the deafening silence.

Loghain's brows knitted together in confusion. "What?"

"You wept for me after I killed the archdemon," Lhiannon began quietly; her eyes were back to looking at the reins in her hands. "I remember you carrying me. I remember seeing your tears. Why did you weep?"

Loghain was silent for some time, thinking of his answer. He had not known she saw his tears as he carried her dying body off the roof of Fort Drakon. He realized that he was afraid to answer Lhiannon's question, knowing full well the reason he wept for her. He was afraid of admitting the truth to her far more than he feared any Orlesian or darkspawn. Was it not better to break her heart now than to do so later through death or the Calling? He felt cruel.

They traveled in silence for several minutes before Lhiannon took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice hard. "Well, I hope that whatever happens—whatever _you_ decide is the best path—we shall remain friends. I have come to value your friendship a great deal."

Loghain nodded, feeling a lump in his throat that was never there before. "The bonds of friendship between us cannot be broken," he said quietly. "You shall always have it. There have been few in my life that I have called such, but you are one of them."

That was little comfort to Lhiannon, who felt her heart being shattered into tiny fragments again, the yawning chasm within growing larger with every passing moment. She spurred her horse to travel up ahead of Loghain by a number of yards, pulling her hood up and cloak around her as she did so. She wanted to mourn what she thought would never be and did not want him to see her tears. _Damn my foolish heart._

_

* * *

A/N: Loghain just pisses me off sometimes. What the hell is he thinking? Hopefully, he'll come to his senses before too long._

_Thanks to everyone hanging out with me. I appreciate you all! _


	17. I Was a Fool

Lhiannon could smell the ocean on the breeze; she knew then that they were close to Gwaren. She would occasionally needle Loghain with queries of "are we there yet?", earning a number of growls and exasperated looks from him. She had said nothing further on that first day through the forest and Loghain found the silence deafening. He was not sure what he could say to bridge the growing chasm between them so he fell into an old habit; he said nothing. They had stopped at a small cabin along the Brecilian Passage. There were a number of them along the passage, Loghain explained; small, two room shelters used by hunters and travelers through the passage consisting of a living area and sleeping area. When they stopped for the first night, Loghain had gone off to hunt while Lhiannon gathered wood and started a fire in the small fireplace. By the time Loghain had returned, a fire was burning merrily in the fireplace. Lhiannon sat on a small stool next to the fire, reading her book on Amaranthine, her face set in stone. They ate their meal in silence and afterward Loghain offered Lhiannon the bed in the sleeping area; he would use his bedroll and sleep in the living area. The words were barely out of his mouth when she picked up her book and went to the sleeping area, mumbling a good night and closing the door quietly behind her. He neither saw nor heard anything further from her until she emerged the next morning, dressed and packed for the day's ride even earlier than he normally was.

On the second day through the forest, Lhiannon began to speak to him again in lighter tones. She was not her usual chatty self, but at least the silence was abating. By the time they neared Gwaren, she was like her old self. Mostly. It seemed to Loghain that her face was like a mask; her emotions never reached her eyes. The only one that did was a profound sadness. It made his heart ache, knowing he was behind that look. _It's for the best,_ he kept telling himself, in the hopes that he may actually start to believe it. So far, it was not working.

When the ocean breeze drifted into Lhiannon's nostrils, Loghain turned his head to look at her from where he rode at point. "_Now_ we're here," he grinned at her as they rounded a bend and exited the forest. Lhiannon's first thought of Gwaren was that is was smaller than she thought it would be. There was a large harbor in the distance with many boats moored there. Low buildings dotted the streets and she could see a large manor set on a hill above the town.

There had not been any sort of welcome or fanfare when they arrived, which was just how Loghain wanted it. Those people that were on the streets noticed Loghain riding through the town with Lhiannon at his side and many waved and called out to him amiably as he passed by on his way to the manor; that was enough of a welcome for him. Despite all that had happened in the last year, many of his people had remained loyal to him. It was something he had appreciated.

As Loghain and Lhiannon entered the walls of the manor, they found a stable boy waiting to take their horses. The seneschal, Thorne, was waiting for them. Thorne looked at Lhiannon with a puzzled expression on his face, as if he was not sure who this unknown woman was. Loghain and Lhiannon swiftly dismounted from their horses, handing the reins to the stable boy. Other servants began to remove the packs from the horses and carried them to the manor.

"Come," Loghain called to Lhiannon as he began to make his way toward the manor. Thorne bowed as Loghain and Lhiannon walked by, then scampered along after them.

"Your Grace," Thorne stammered nervously, "it is good to have you back in Gwaren. If I may ask, who is your guest?"

"This is the new Arlessa of Amaranthine and Grey Warden Commander, Lhiannon Amell," Loghain responded crisply.

Thorne bowed his head to Lhiannon. "The Hero of Ferelden? This is an honor. My lady, I am Seneschal Thorne. Welcome to Gwaren."

Lhiannon nodded her head. "I thank you for your welcome."

"Don't get used to my being here," Loghain growled at Thorne. "We will be leaving for Denerim again in a few days for the wedding and coronation."

"But, Your Grace," Thorne stammered again, which caused Loghain's ire to begin to rise, "you just arrived. The nobles will want to hold court since you've been away for so long. They tire of seeing my face every day."

Loghain stopped and whirled about, looming over Thorne, which caused the man to break out in sweat across his forehead. Lhiannon could see what Loghain meant about putting the fear of the Maker into him. She watched the color drain from Thorne's face. "I will hear the petitions of whatever nobles can be here in three days. The rest can wait to hold court until the matters in Denerim are settled. I also have duties with the Grey Wardens that cannot be put off for too long." Loghain and Lhiannon began to mount the steps toward the main door of the manor and Thorne scurried ahead to open the door for them.

Lhiannon looked around as they entered the manor, their footsteps echoing on the floor as they made their way through the halls. She was intensely curious about the place that Loghain had called home for so long. It was simply furnished, which did not surprise her. Loghain did not seem to be the type of man that collected rare or expensive baubles. They continued through the manor to his private office. As they entered, she saw a few items that Loghain had collected that could be considered treasures or keepsakes. There was an Orlesian pen and inkwell set on the elaborate desk that occupied a large corner of the room. Several maps were painstakingly mounted in frames on the walls. A small, ornate jewelry chest and gaudy lantern sat on the mantle of the fireplace within. Above the fireplace was mounted a sword, an Orlesian style that Lhiannon was immediately curious about. A door led off the room toward what Lhiannon assumed where Loghain's private chambers.

Loghain was removing the top half of his studded leathers as he walked into the room. Thorne followed him in and motioned to a pile of parchment on the desk. He turned and lighted several of the wall sconces to provide more light for reading. Lhiannon sat in a chair across the desk from Loghain's own.

"All your reports are there for you, Your Grace. I could give you a summary of them if you prefer."

Loghain walked over to the armor stand and began to place his leathers on the rack. He grinned to himself. Thorne was a twit, but he was a capable, trustworthy twit. When he finished putting the leathers on the rack, Loghain walked to his desk and sat. This was the very desk that Maric had used all those years ago when he first held court in Gwaren. He sat in this very chair, writing desperate letters to the Ferelden nobles, trying to convince them to join the rebel army to throw the usurper out of Denerim. This was also the place where Maric had killed the traitor Katriel. Maric had called it murder; Loghain had called it justice. The room served to remind him of everything they had fought for.

"Yes, Thorne, give me a summary for now," he said, resting his forearms on the desk and waiting for Thorne to begin.

"First off, the semiannual taxes have been brought in. Most everyone was able to pay them on time, which was a miracle considering the Blight, but we have a few households and businesses claiming hardship. I have a list of hardship cases for you to review at your convenience. We've also counted how much needs to go to Denerim and will be sending an armed escort party there next week."

"Good," Loghain replied curtly. "What of the army?"

"Ser Cauthrein has been making sure the army is ready for any need that may arise. She has recruited new soldiers to replace those lost fighting during the civil war. There have been a few small darkspawn bands in the area, but nothing of major consequence."

_Cauthrein is here?_ Lhiannon thought to herself, shifting uneasily in her seat. She was not sure what to make of that, since the last time they saw each other they had done their best to kill one another.

Loghain nodded, pleased. "Excellent. Send a message to her that I'll want to see her here tomorrow morning. There are other military matters I wish to discuss with her."

"We've nearly completed the repairs needed in Gwaren both from the darkspawn incursions and some of the rioting that occurred during the civil war."

Loghain frowned, deep lines furrowing in his forehead. "How badly did Gwaren suffer?"

Thorne shook his head. "There was terrible damage to a number of buildings and there were casualties. However, we were able to fend off the darkspawn and that helped quell the rioting that took place."

"Did you apprehend those that were responsible for the rioting?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Those that we caught are currently in the dungeons. The rest were killed," Thorne explained.

Loghain sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. So much damage had been caused by the civil war. He had done what he thought was best at the time, but he was by no means perfect. This would have to be a lesson for him; truly a bitter pill to swallow. No matter though; as Lhiannon had told him numerous times, what is past, is past. One can only learn from the mistakes and move forward, which he had tried to do since becoming a Grey Warden.

"What else?" Loghain asked.

"The port is doing excellent business now that the Blight has been turned back," Thorne continued, clearly more relaxed. "There are more ships sailing in and we are collecting the usual tariffs. I mentioned before that the nobles would like to hold court soon. Shall I schedule something in the near future?"

Loghain shook his head. Holding court was not one of his favorite things to do, but it was a necessary evil. He would have to hold court sometime soon, as much as that thought turned his stomach. "No, don't schedule anything yet. I do not know when I shall be returning from Denerim and Amaranthine. You will have to dispense justice while I am gone."

"Yes, Your Grace. That is all the information I have for you at this time."

Loghain ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "Thorne, please have the servants bring a meal to the Arlessa and me in my sitting room. It has been a long trip and we are both tired and hungry."

"Would you like me to take your reports there, Your Grace?"

Loghain shook his head. "No, I'll take them myself." He paused, sitting back in his chair and regarding Thorne for a moment. Lhiannon saw that the man began to get nervous again, shifting his weight from foot to foot; those icy blue eyes of Loghain's boring into him. She felt pity for the man. She knew how unsettling those eyes could be.

"How long have you been in my service, Thorne?" Loghain asked.

"About twelve years, Your Grace," Thorne stammered, becoming nervous again. "Are you unhappy with my service?"

"Hmm," Loghain snorted, rubbing his chin with his hand. "Well, Thorne, I must say that you've done well running things while I have been gone. I'm impressed. I will be increasing your stipend. Good work."

Thorne visibly relaxed, sighing heavily. Compliments from Teyrn Loghain were few and far between. "Thank you, Your Grace. Good evening, My Lady." He bowed to both Loghain and Lhiannon, then turned and left the room, a broad smile on his face. Loghain merely shook his head and scoffed. _Twit_.

"I see what you mean about your seneschal having the fear of the Maker," Lhiannon smirked at him.

Loghain leaned back in his chair, knotting his hands behind his head. "It never hurts to have them fear you a little."

* * *

Loghain could not sleep. He had hoped that being in his own bed in his own home would bring him a sound rest, something that had evaded him for many months now. Unfortunately, his racing mind would not allow his body to relax. His mind kept returning to what he had done on the trip to Gwaren; he had pushed Lhiannon away, telling himself that it was for her own good. He was greatly surprised at the ache that had settled in to his heart, like a dagger being thrust into it over and over again. He was still trying to convince himself that it would be cruel to commit himself to her only to have death or the Calling come in a scant few years. A small voice, however, began to whisper doubt into his ear. Would it be _more cruel _to not make the commitment?

Sighing irritably, Loghain rose from his bed and pulled on a pair of leather trousers. He quietly left his room, padding with bare feet through the halls of the manor to the guest room where Lhiannon was staying. He stood outside the door for a long while; was she sleeping? Lying awake in bed, haunted by demons and doubt as he was?

Lhiannon had been lying awake in bed and sensed him just outside the door. She quietly rose, creeping over to the door in her bare feet and listening. She gently rested her forehead against the door, silently willing him to come to her. _Maker, have him see,_ she implored. This was his decision to make; she would wait a little longer for him. As a tear rolled down her cheek, she told herself that if he had not made his decision by the time they the left for Amaranthine, she would have to move on. She hoped that he would _see_ before it came to that.

* * *

Loghain was in his office thumbing through the new correspondence that had recently arrived. Word had spread quickly that the Teyrn was back in Gwaren and in the few days he had been back, the volume of correspondence from the nobles had increased. Some of the letters conveyed congratulations on the defeat of the archdemon and welcomed him back to Gwaren. They had expressed interest in holding court soon, of course. Everyone wants to be seen with a hero. Loghain sighed; while some of the nobles in the teyrnir were decent, loyal people, others were opportunists looking to better their position with him. Not bloody likely, that. He stifled a yawn with his hand; he was still not sleeping well of late.

Loghain set the correspondence aside, awaiting the arrival of both Lhiannon and Ser Cauthrien. As he waited, his eyes fell on the ornate inkwell and pen that had sat on his desk for years. It had belonged to the Orlesian sympathizer that had been Teyrn of Gwaren before Loghain. When the rebel army took Gwaren, Maric and Loghain had kept some of the former Teyrn's possessions as spoils; they were to be reminders of what they had fought for. He reached out and brushed his fingers across the cool metal of the inkwell, his mind wandering back in time to when they had first arrived here.

_I hurt her._

Loghain stared into the metal of the inkwell, mesmerized by the color and feel of it. He ran his fingers over the raised design as he had for years, his mind drifting toward Lhiannon for what seemed like the thousandth time since they arrived in Gwaren. His eyes began to feel heavy as his fingers slowed their movement on the metal.

_You're a damned bloody fool, Loghain. You know that, right? Don't you think she has a say in the matter? Stop being such a stubborn ass and take the chance! _The thought had a voice that sounded so much like Maric, Loghain thought he was in the room with him. It would be something Maric would say to him. Loghain's fingers stopped moving along the inkwell as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

_I told her once that I was a man accustomed to taking chances. She believes it's a chance worth taking. The bloody voice in my head that is Maric believes it's a chance worth taking._

A knock on the door drew Loghain's attention and it only took him a second to realize that he felt the taint just outside. Lhiannon had arrived before Cauthrien. As he walked to the door and grasped the handle, he had made a decision.

_I am a man accustomed to taking chances._

_

* * *

_

The meeting with Ser Cauthrien had gone very well. She was preparing to leave after having discussed several military matters with Loghain. He wanted to take a number of troops back to Denerim and eventually Amaranthine, both to help keep Ferelden from looking like an expansionist opportunity and to possibly have some join the Grey Wardens. Lhiannon and Cauthrein had been polite to each other, but it was clear that they would likely not be on friendly terms any time soon. As Lhiannon and Cauthrien said polite goodbyes to each other, Thorne came into the room and spoke to Loghain briefly before hurrying out again.

"Thorne tells me that several of the nobles have arrived to have justice dispensed," Loghain began, his face grimacing in distaste. "Favor currying bastards."

Lhiannon scoffed at him, grinning. "Well, I certainly look forward to watching you work."

Loghain stood from his chair, ceremonial armor gleaming. "Then let's not keep them waiting any longer. I want those lickspittles out of here as soon as possible." He held out a hand and she took it, rising from her chair and following him to his audience chamber.

"My Lords and Ladies, the Teyrn of Gwaren," Lhiannon heard Thorne call out to the assembly. As they entered the audience chamber, she saw that perhaps a dozen nobles and landholders were there, dressed in finer clothes. Loghain took his place on his chair under a large banner of a yellow wyvern; Lhiannon would not have called it a throne, as it was far too plain. For Loghain, however, it was perfect. Loghain indicated a chair off to the side of the dais for Lhiannon to take. She sat as Loghain sat and watched as Thorne announced the first case of the day.

The business of the court went on for several hours, Loghain dispensing his firm justice. Lhiannon found that the arguments were about things that did not surprise her: monies owed, land disputes, and the settling of disputes among neighbors. One case also had a farmer's flock of chickens decimated by the untrained dogs of another; Loghain had ruled that the dogs' owner should repay the farmer for his animals. Thorne had joined Lhiannon during the affair, explaining the intricacies of court politics to her. She found his advice invaluable. After the last case was heard, Thorne announced that the business was concluded and began to shepherd the nobles out of the chamber. Loghain remained seated for a few moments after the last had left, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Lhiannon rose and went to his side.

"Headache?" she asked him.

Loghain grunted an affirmative. "All that whining and groveling grates on my nerves."

Lhiannon gently touched his shoulder and sent a small wave of healing magic toward Loghain. He sighed and relaxed. "Thank you."

"I thank you for letting me observe. I learned much, both from you and from Thorne. I can see why you value you him so."

Loghain rose and stretched. "He is a capable seneschal."

"From you, that's high praise."

"Come," he said, shaking his head at her. "Let us go to my office so I can finish the damned paperwork from today's bickering."

* * *

Lhiannon and Loghain had retired to his office after the last of the nobles had left the manor. Loghain was scowling as he set his signature and seal to the paperwork that Thorne presented him, the official records of that day's proceedings. When he was finished, Thorne bowed and left to take the one copy of the paperwork to the manor's vault. A messenger would send a copy to the parties involved and another to Denerim. As Thorne left, two squires came in. One began to gather Loghain's ceremonial armor to be cleaned and polished. The other handed a long cloth to Loghain before gathering the remaining pieces of Loghain's armor. They bowed and left as quickly as they appeared, Loghain closing and quietly bolting the door behind them.

"I have something to show you," Loghain said hesitantly as he placed the long cloth on his desk. He looked at Lhiannon, who was eying him warily.

"What is this?" she asked, her eyes traveling from the cloth to Loghain and back again. He simply raised his eyebrows at her. Lhiannon stood, pulling a corner of the cloth back to reveal a silverite sword with delicate designs carved into the hilt and blade. She looked at Loghain, brow furrowed in confusion.

"What the…"

"It's called 'Spellweaver'," he explained. "I found it with a dwarven merchant in Denerim. He said it's an elven design made specifically for mages; it vibrates in the hands of anyone who isn't a mage." He looked into Lhiannon's wary eyes. "It will act as a focus for your magic."

"My magic?" she said slowly, looking at Loghain suspiciously.

"It's yours."

Lhiannon shook her head slowly, astonished at such a gesture. She never expected it from him, especially after what passed between them on the way to Gwaren. She picked it up and could feel the enchantments woven in the metal. It hummed with power as she took a couple of experimental swings with it.

"This is too much," she protested. "I can't…"

"You certainly can," he insisted. "More to the point, you know as much about procuring a sword as I do procuring a magic staff, is that not so?"

"I suppose it is," Lhiannon agreed. Her eyes narrowed at Loghain and she looked at him with both confusion and suspicion. "Why?" she asked, her voice taking a hard edge.

"You _do_ need a new sword, since the last one you had—which _was_ mine by the way—is decorating the wall of the throne room in Denerim."

"That's not what I meant," Lhiannon said slowly.

Loghain looked uncomfortable for a moment but quickly shrugged it off. "It is not a bribe..."

"Then what, _exactly_, is it?"

"It is a 'thank you' for all that you've done for Ferelden. For all that you've done for _me_."

Loghain smiled at her; Lhiannon found that he looked years younger when he did that and wistfully wished he smiled more often. She felt some of the suspicion slowly fade as she gently set the sword back on the cloth and circled around the desk to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering there for the briefest of moments before she stepped away. "Most generous. Thank you."

Loghain's body felt like it was suddenly on fire, the heat beginning where she kissed his cheek and radiating outward. He found that it took all of his willpower to not throw everything off his desk and take her right then and there. The thought of her pliant body under his was nearly enough to drive him mad. The blood began to roar in his ears. His hands went to her waist, drawing her close once again. "You're quite welcome," he spoke softly, his eyes boring into hers. Her mask began to falter and he watched as tears filled her sad eyes.

"For love of the Maker, do not torment me, Loghain," she pleaded with him in anguish as the tears fell. "Either pursue this or release me if you feel this is so wrong. I cannot fight this battle again."

He brought a hand up to her face, brushing her tears away. "I was a fool," he told her quietly, his voice tender. "I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I just want _you_."

Lhiannon's expression softened, turning from anguished to expectant. Taking that as encouragement, Loghain lowered his lips to hers, holding them there for a moment before breaking the kiss. He pulled his head back and looked at her. Her brows slightly furrowed as if confused.

"It has been nearly a lifetime alone for me," he whispered, caressing her face with the tips of his fingers.

Lhiannon brought her hand to his face, resting her hand on his cheek. "You're not alone any longer."

Loghain lowered his face to hers again. He tried to be gentle, but instead crushed her mouth with his, the longing in him taking over. Her tongue darted into his mouth as she desperately clung to him, brushing his teeth and he growled from deep within his throat. Their mouths still fused together, she moved her hands under his shirt. His skin was warm and taut and she could feel the muscles just below the surface. He may be older, but the years of warfare and training had kept him fit. He trembled at her touch and she could feel his skin breaking out in gooseflesh. He brought his hands from Lhiannon's waist, loosening the ties to her shirt as her hands wandered to his chest and began to fumble with the ties on his. She pushed the shirt up and over his head; it dropped to the floor in a heap. She ran her hands up and down his chest and then over to his back, feeling the muscles twitch as her hands traveled. She placed feather light kisses on his skin.

Loghain finally was able to loosen the ties to Lhiannon's shirt and he gently brought it over her head, dropping it to the floor to join his. Her breast band followed close behind. His burning hot hands traveled along her body, feeling both rough and soft against her skin as he trailed kisses down her neck and shoulders. She could feel her own skin breaking out in gooseflesh and she trembled under his touch. He loosened the ties to her trousers and pushed them down. With a flick of her foot, the trousers landed in a pile not far away. Lhiannon's hands moved to the ties of his own trousers, loosing them until she was able to twist a hand down the front, caressing his hardened length. He growled in pleasure and brought his face up to hers once again, devouring her mouth with his own as she held him. She removed her hand and pushed his trousers down. He stepped out of them, grinding himself up against her with only his smallclothes between them. Lhiannon felt her hips helplessly move against his.

Loghain ran his hands down her back and under her backside, picking her up and holding her tight against him. Lhiannon wrapped her legs around his waist, squirming against his hardness. He growled as he carried her to his inner bedchamber, her movements causing a pleasurable friction against him. Somehow, they managed to remove the rest of their small clothes and fell into his bed. He lay on top of her, greedily kissing her breasts and brushing the nipples with his tongue. She grasped handfuls of his hair and arched her back, giving him more access. As she arched, he slid his hand down to her thigh and began to caress it, the rough skin on his hand nearly driving her into a frenzy. When she thought she could not take the slow torture any longer, she grasped his hand in an iron grip, moving it up toward her most private of places. He understood and moved his hand closer, beginning to circle her opening with his fingers as he came back to claim her lips in his own. Lhiannon writhed beneath him, encouraging him with small breathless moans escaping her lips. He slid first one, then two fingers into her and gripped her firmly. He rhythmically moved his fingers within her, exploring her from the inside. Her writhing intensified, this new torture more deliciously maddening than the last.

"Loghain, please," she begged breathlessly. Loghain withdrew his fingers and positioned himself between her legs, any semblance of control skittering away. With a groan of pleasure, he pushed inside her. Lhiannon arched her back and lifted her hips to meet him. They found a rhythm with one another, hips moving together as one. She pulled him down to her and kissed him hungrily, his tongue finding its way into her mouth once again. He pulled her legs up and she hooked them behind his waist to draw him in even deeper. Lhiannon felt the heat building in her core and found herself breathing faster and squirming under Loghain with greater desperation, searching for her release. She clutched at his back, digging her fingertips into his skin and leaving small marks there. His movements became harder and faster as he neared his own climax, their breathing more ragged as their pleasure increased. She willed herself to wait and cross the threshold with him but knew it would be a fruitless effort. With a gasp she felt her release begin inside her, her muscles gripping Loghain even tighter as she arched her back beneath him; she began to feel his convulsions as he too reached his release. He joined her cry with one of his own as the tremors overtook him and he settled himself on top of her, his sweat mingling with hers as his tremors continued, then finally calmed.

After a few moments, Loghain rolled onto his side, withdrawing from her warmth. He pulled Lhiannon onto her side so they could look at each other eye to eye. He gently brushed a lock of stray hair from her face, running his fingers over her cheek before slowly tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips. A finger came around to rest on her lips and she kissed it. His hand softly moved back to her cheek, holding it gently.

"I have fallen in love with you," he admitted to her at last, the weight falling off his shoulders, the final pieces of his walls crumbling to dust.

Lhiannon stroked the side of his face with a finger. "I know," she whispered. "And I you." She scoffed and gave him a grin. "I expect we'll be executed for some sort of treason when we return to Denerim. We will be quite the source of gossip at the very least, I'm sure."

He chuckled, running a finger down her neck and watching as gooseflesh blossomed in his finger's wake. "I happen to have influence with the Queen. Perhaps all we'll see is prison." He pulled her closer, her body molding itself to his as he kissed her once again. It felt perfect.

_You were right, Maric. _

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Well, Icey, you wanted more smokin' hot kisses. Does this suffice? ;)_

_As always, a big THANK YOU to everyone following along and reviewing. You make my day and keep pushing me to go farther.  
_


	18. New Beginnings

A light fog had settled over Gwaren, wrapping the town in its white, billowy embrace. The sun had risen not long before and promised to burn the fog away before too long. The smell of salt and fish hung in the air, as Lhiannon suspected it almost always did. Only when a breeze came from the forest did she suspect the smell of salt and fish fade. It was not an entirely unpleasant smell, just different than what she was used to.

They had held each other close through the night and there was little sleep to be had between the two of them. Fingers ran through hair and caressed skin as the night went on. Little was said, but much was communicated. Lhiannon had finally drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of Loghain's heart through his chest. It beat strong and steady, and as she began to drift toward sleep, its comforting sound became her world.

Loghain had awakened her not long before dawn with a gentle kiss to the skin between her eyes. Lhiannon's eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring into his blue ones, lost in them as she never had been before. She smiled and rose, knowing he would want to begin the journey back to Denerim early. They dressed and prepared their packs before donning their riding leathers and leaving the manor. Cauthrien and Thorne would no doubt be waiting just outside the manor for Loghain's parting instructions.

"Cauthrien, you and Thorne are in charge while I am away. I trust that you will act in my name to the best of your ability," Loghain stated as the last of his packs were secured to his horse by one of the stable boys. "If you need to send word to me, we shall only be in Denerim for a few days. After that, we shall more than likely be at Vigil's Keep."

Cauthrien nodded at Loghain, her face serious. "It shall be done, Your Grace." Loghain held out his hand to his trusted lieutenant, shaking her hand firmly. "Take care, Cauthrien."

"And you, Your Grace." Cauthrien turned her attention to Lhiannon, who stood just off to the side watching the exchange between Loghain and Cauthrien. "My lady, I hope your stay in Gwaren was pleasant. I look forward to seeing you again," she said as she bowed her head to Lhiannon, her voice seemingly _too_ polite.

_Yes, I bet you do,_ Lhiannon thought, bringing a smile to her face. "Maker watch over you, Ser Cauthrien. You are most welcome to visit Vigil's Keep whenever you like."

"Perhaps I shall, once matters in Ferelden become more stable," Cauthrien said, taking a step back, her eyes moving between Lhiannon and Loghain.

Thorne stepped forward, bowing to Lhiannon as he did so. "My lady, it was an honor to meet you and I hope to see you return to Gwaren soon."

"Your guidance in the matters of court have been most valuable Thorne," Lhiannon stated, sending a glance in Loghain's direction. "Teyrn Loghain could not have a finer seneschal."

Loghain scoffed lightly beside her, but she sensed the humor behind it. "Flatterer. You make Thorne's head swell with such sweet words." He turned toward Thorne, who stood before them waiting for his dismissal. "However, the Commander speaks true. You have performed well before, Thorne, and I trust you will do so again." He held out his hand to Thorne, who warily glanced at it before coming forward to shake it, a grin lighting up his face.

"Thank you, Your Grace. A safe journey to Denerim to you both."

* * *

Lhiannon found the ride back to Denerim far more enjoyable than the ride to Gwaren. They would spend the days riding as they did when they first set out from Denerim: periods of companionable silence broken up by periods of light chatter or deep conversation. When they stopped for the night, they held each other close, taking the first steps down their new road together.

They stopped for the final night on the journey at the small inn past South Reach where they stayed at while on their way to Gwaren. This time, however, Loghain only asked for one room, earning a knowing glance from the proprietor. Instead of eating their meal in the common area of the inn, they took it to their room, content to spend the time in each other's company without distractions or the inquisitive glances of other patrons.

"I'm curious, Loghain," Lhiannon began, breaking up pieces of bread to dip into her stew. "That sword mounted above the fireplace in your office—where did you get that?"

Loghain held up a hand as he finished the mouthful of stew he was chewing. "I took it from the chevalier commander at River Dane. We had fought like savages for what seemed like hours. I finally disarmed him and knocked him to the ground; his helmet had fallen off at some point and I punched him square in the face. It felt so good that I laughed as soon as my fist landed. I nearly broke my hand." Lhiannon watched as a grin played across his face. He reached over and took a drink of ale before he continued.

"When he fell to the ground, I saw that his sword was laying nearby. He tried to roll over and grab it, but I kicked his hand away and got to it first. I put my foot on his chest and shoved his own sword into his neck. After he was dead, I took the sword and his armor as spoils."

"And you still wear his armor to this day."

"Yes. Ironic, isn't it? The 'Hero of River Dane' wearing Orlesian armor. I meant it to be offensive to them."

When they had finished their meal, Lhiannon turned her attention to the small fireplace in their room to light a fire. She sat on the floor in front of it with her eyes closed, basking in the glow and gentle warmth emanating from it. She heard Loghain settle himself beside her a short time later, pulling her toward him to sit between his legs with her back resting against his chest. His arms embraced her and she turned to look up at him. She saw a far off, yet contented look on his face as he watched the flames.

"What is it?" Lhiannon asked with a grin.

"I'm listening," Loghain replied, his eyes still on the flames.

"Listening for what?"

Loghain scoffed lightly, the humor in it evident. "Maric's laugh. For years, I told him magic was not to be trusted; starting from the time we were lost in the Korcari Wilds."

"Why the laughter?"

"He would consider our bond most amusing in that light."

"And do you trust mages now?" she asked, a wry grin on her face.

"You and your magic? With my very life."

She continued to grin at him. "Even my healing magic?"

"Well, there are exceptions. Perhaps I should think again."

Lhiannon brought her lips up to his jaw, kissing it lightly before snuggling into his chest once more. "You _do_ appreciate irony."

Loghain chuckled, then laid her down on the floor next to the fireplace, showing her just how much he trusted and loved her.

* * *

"A _what?" _

Lhiannon spat the words out, looking at Loghain with narrowed eyes. She had just all but shoved a servant out of her guest quarters at the palace in Denerim and slammed the door behind her. The servant had a bundle of cloth in her hand that Lhiannon had recognized with dawning horror as a ball gown.

"Yes, a ball," Loghain frowned, "Anora insisted on it as part of the celebrations. She further _insisted_ that we be there to help them celebrate it. There was no talking her out of it, I'm afraid."

A look of horror crossed Lhiannon's face. "A wedding and coronation I can tolerate. It's bad enough that I have to suffer through a sodding parade, but a _ball_ too? Loghain, I can't _dance_. I'd rather face the archdemon again."

Loghain very nearly laughed. This was the bravest woman he had known in years and she was terrified of dancing. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm looking forward to it about as much as you are."

"Still, I think I'd rather take my chances with the archdemon again," she said with displeasure, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Loghain warily. "I suppose _you_ get to wear your fancy armor while I am paraded about in a dress."

"Unfortunately, no," Loghain replied, a look of distaste crossing his features. "Anora insisted that I 'look like a teyrn'—her exact words. She forbade armor, even for the King."

"Misery loves company then. Now I don't feel so ridiculous."

Loghain shrugged and smirked at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. Lhiannon saw that she was not going to get any sympathy from him. He seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. She playfully swatted his arm and went to open the door to call the servant back with that bloody dress. Before she could open the door, Loghain gently pushed her up against it and kissed her with enough passion to make her knees weak. When they parted, he stroked her cheek and grinned. That glint was back in his eyes.

"Have fun getting your _dress_ fitted," he said playfully. She pushed him out the door, beckoning the servant to come in with that hateful dress. Lhiannon soon found herself behind the dressing screen in her room, pulling on the hateful thing as the servant and seamstresses prepared to work.

The seamstresses stood Lhiannon on a small stool while they fluttered about, pinning, tucking, and sewing the fabric to flatter her curves. She was not very happy with the idea of a sodding ball, but as she saw herself in the mirror she began to relax. Leliana had picked it out, the servant told her. She and Zevran had remained in Denerim after the defeat of the archdemon, as they wanted to be part of the upcoming celebrations. Alistair knew this, the servant explained, and had sought Leliana out, asking her to find something appropriate for Lhiannon.

Before she saw the dress, Lhiannon worried that it would be some Orlesian nightmare, all lace and bows and petticoats. When she finally saw it, she calmed; Leliana had chosen a simple, yet elegant design. It was dark blue velvet and it felt luxurious against her skin. She would definitely have to purchase some velvet to line her armor with for the colder weather. It felt so much better than the scratchy homespun or leather she was used to. The neckline was wide and deep, showing off the top of her cleavage and stopping just shy of her shoulders. It was trimmed in white along the neckline and a white sash wrapped around her waist and down the front. The sleeves were long and full and had white trim at the hem and just above the elbow. She was admiring herself in the mirror when she heard a gasp from the doorway.

"Oh Lhiannon! You look beautiful!" Leliana gushed. She had in her hands a pair of her own shoes for Lhiannon, who looked at them like they were spoiled fish. "Really, Lhiannon, you must stop brooding about this. You are going to be the most exquisite thing at the ball! I wish I could be there. I do so miss fancy dresses and country dancing."

Lhiannon could feel the blush rising on her cheeks. "I feel ridiculous."

"You shouldn't. You look wonderful. You _must_ let me do your hair for you!" Leliana begged.

Lhiannon sighed, shaking her head with exasperation; Leliana would not take no for an answer in this situation. "All right. But no ribbons; and no painting of my face, so don't even ask!"

Clapping her hands gleefully, Leliana ran off, presumably to track down whatever she would need to work with Lhiannon's hair for the festivities that would be taking place the following day. The seamstresses continued their alterations and soon after declared their work done. They brought in a full-length mirror for her to see the full effect. Lhiannon slipped into Leliana's shoes and faced the mirror. She was surprised and rather pleased with the results. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.

* * *

The festivities surrounding the wedding and coronation were as elaborate an affair as could be assembled so soon after the Blight. Alistair and Anora were still not completely comfortable around each other but looked like they were genuinely trying to present a united front and put Ferelden's best interests ahead of their own. Lhiannon could see that it would be a long road for them however, as they had quite a gulf between them in the very recent past.

Alistair was at the head of the gathered masses in the palace courtyard, standing in front of the Chantry priest. His golden plate armor gleamed brightly under the shining sun. Lhiannon had a place in front, the empty place next to her for Loghain. Thankfully, she was allowed to wear her armor with a Grey Warden tunic over it for this part of the day's ceremonies. A few moments later, Loghain appeared with Anora on his arm to walk her down the aisle. He looked radiant in his silverite armor, the wyvern of Gwaren emblazoned on the tunic covering it. He had been looking at Anora, the fatherly love for her clearly evident on his face. Lhiannon could not help but smile broadly at him. They walked slowly up the aisle arm in arm. They finally reached the front and Loghain handed her off to Alistair. They nodded politely at each other—which Lhiannon was glad to see—and Loghain turned to take his place next to Lhiannon.

Alistair and Anora spoke their vows to one another and exchanged rings. Then the diadems of the king and queen were brought out and blessed by the Chantry priest. Alistair and Anora swore fealty to Ferelden and promised to protect it in the Maker's name before the diadems were placed on their heads. They turned toward the assembled crowd, who began to applaud loudly. Ferelden has its new King and Queen at last, taking another step toward putting the Blight behind them. Alistair spoke, his hand raised in the air and his voice ringing out and carrying to all corners of the courtyard.

"My friends, thank you all for joining us today for this special occasion. Anora and I are grateful to you all. We thank you for the sacrifices you made in recent days and pray to the Maker that he will watch over and guide those who did not make it this far." They bowed their heads solemnly for a moment, a hush spreading through those gathered. When he raised his head again, he motioned for the Grey Wardens to step forward. Lhiannon and Loghain came forward and bent down on one knee before the King and Queen.

"Today is not only about Anora and me. We also wish to congratulate the Grey Wardens, who helped make this day possible. Were it not for their steadfast bravery, the Blight would have overtaken all." Alistair turned and beckoned to a Chantry priest standing nearby. She came over to them, a small box held in her hands. The priest opened it, revealing two small silver medals shaped like an ancient sword. Anora and Alistair both took one and approached the Grey Wardens, Alistair to Lhiannon and Anora to Loghain.

"This medal is the Sword of Calenhad, the highest honor that can be given by the Crown. It signifies exceptional valor in battle. It is rendered in the image of Nemetos, Calenhad's great sword," Alistair explained, working the pin behind it into Lhiannon's tunic. He hissed as he ended up poking himself in the finger with the sharp point, earning a small chuckle from Lhiannon and a scoff from Loghain as Anora pinned her medal on his tunic.

Alistair beckoned for the Grey Wardens to rise; they did so to the roaring approval of the crowd. Lhiannon turned to look over at Loghain; he had a look of faint aversion on his face and she laughed to herself. Pomp and circumstance like this definitely did not sit well with the reticent Teyrn.

Anora held up her hand to quiet the crowd and cleared her throat politely. "My friends," she called, her voice carrying through the courtyard. "The time has come to celebrate our hard fought victory and good fortune. Go now, and enjoy yourselves." With that said, the crowd began to disperse into Denerim, undoubtedly heading for the inns and taverns. They would be doing brisk business today. The royal couple turned toward Lhiannon and Loghain. "Come, the both of you," Anora beckoned to them. "The carriages await us."

* * *

The procession wound its way through the streets of Denerim under the bright afternoon sun. Lhiannon's arm felt like it was going to fall off, both from the waving and the weight of her armor. She was tired of the standing and her shattered leg was beginning to ache. The crowds cheered and waved, calling out to her as she passed.

"There's the Hero of Ferelden!"

"She doesn't look like a mage."

"She's much shorter than I thought."

"Will you marry me, My Lady?"

Loghain, of course, found her discomfort to be amusing as he sat in the seat across from her in the carriage designated for the Grey Wardens. He remembered how he felt all those years ago during the victory parade after Meghren's head was placed on a pike outside the palace. He had hated being the center of attention, Maric and Rowan enjoying _his_ discomfort.

"They cheer for you, not me. Some of them would rather see my neck stretched," Loghain said, laying his arms across the back of his seat while a corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk at her.

Lhiannon sat heavily in her seat, shooting Loghain an annoyed look when she saw his smirk. "Oh? And there are those who don't want to see _mine_ stretched?" Loghain looked at her, an eyebrow raised in questioning. "I killed Howe, remember? I automatically gained enemies when I was made Arlessa of Amaranthine. I'm sure he still has sympathizers who would love to see me swinging from a tree somewhere."

"Ah, but you're the Hero of Ferelden."

"And you're the Hero of River Dane who happened to have Howe close to him. I'm sure there are those who would like to try and gain _your_ influence as a Grey Warden. They know that you and I will have to work together and therefore, you will be close to me. Who knows what sort of ideas they would try to put in your head?"

Loghain chuckled at her, the sound a deep rumble. "I'm glad you realize that you now have political enemies." He paused, another smirk crossing his face. "You appear to be a natural politician."

A look of disgust crossed Lhiannon's face and made her nose wrinkle, causing Loghain's smirk to grow larger. "You are taking a great deal of pleasure in my discomfort, are you not?" she accused him, kicking at him with her armored foot.

"Get used to it," he chuckled at her, swatting her foot away. "_Hero_ is a title that is both honorable and tedious."

"Yes, well, I don't know how I'm supposed to get through that damned ball tonight. My leg hurts like bloody hell."

"Shall I call a healer for you, My Lady?" Loghain drawled at her.

"_Shall I call a healer for you, My Lady?_ " she mimicked him, a sneer on her face. "Surely teasing the Hero of Ferelden is a crime of some sort. I _know_ mocking your Warden Commander is grounds for punishment."

Loghain leaned forward toward her, a wicked spark in his eye. "Punishment, you say," his voice low and wicked, his hand rubbing his chin. "I wonder what sort of punishment you have in mind. _Commander._"

Lhiannon leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest in mock indignation. "I'm sure I can think of something suitably appropriate for such insubordination."

* * *

In a small study off the main ballroom, Lhiannon stood wringing her hands together nervously and pacing back and forth. By peering out the door she could see the comings and goings from the room without actually being seen herself. Soft music flowed from the hall and she could smell the feast that was being set on tables along the wall. Her stomach rumbled; she realized she had not eaten since her morning meal hours ago. She was almost afraid to eat however; she just knew that she would slop something on her dress, most likely the on the white sash. A number Ferelden nobles were here, milling about before the revelry began. Not all had been able to make the journey in the aftermath of the Blight, but there were still a fair number represented. Lhiannon felt herself becoming nervous, pacing the room and wrenching her hands together until they felt clammy. She cursed herself and forced her hands to stop. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she left the study and headed into the ballroom. _More like the wolves lair,_ she groaned to herself.

She did not recognize many of the faces that turned to look at her. Some looked her up and down, their eyes crawling across her skin. Others barely noticed her presence. Lhiannon did see Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde and decided she wanted to give them a wide berth. There was something about Isolde that bothered Lhiannon; perhaps it was the way Isolde looked down her nose at anyone without a title. Lhiannon remembered with aversion the first encounter with Isolde outside the windmill in Redcliffe. Granted, Isolde was terrified for her husband and son, but Lhiannon had still received the impression that Isolde thought she was a better class of person than the Grey Warden mage that had agreed to help her. Even after Lhiannon had saved Connor from the desire demon and obtained the sacred ashes that helped Eamon, Isolde barely spoke more than a 'thank you' to her.

Lhiannon spotted Bann Teagan not far away, who gave her a wave and a nod, which she returned with a smile, grateful to find a friendly face in the room. "My Lady," Teagan said as he approached, smiling and taking her hand to place a gentle kiss on it. "It is truly well to see you again."

Lhiannon smiled, giving him a small curtsy. "Lhiannon, please. And you, ser."

"If you are to be Lhiannon, then I am to be Teagan. I never congratulated you on the defeat of the archdemon. It was well done, Lhiannon."

"I hope to never have to face a Blight again. Though I would do anything to protect Ferelden and its people."

Teagan smiled. "And for that, you shall always have my respect. I also understand you've been named Arlessa of Amaranthine and Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."

Lhiannon rolled her eyes and smirked at him. "I'm sure the Chantry is beside themselves. But yes, I'm the new Arlessa, though I don't know much about noble houses. I do know something about the Grey Wardens though."

Teagan chuckled with her. "Well, let me know if I can assist you in any way. Rainesfere will always be at your side."

She nodded her head, grateful that she had another ally at least. "I certainly will, and I greatly appreciate it."

Teagan leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice so those around them could not hear. "What you did at the Landsmeet, sparing Loghain, seems to have been a good decision after all. I spoke to him earlier; he seems much more like the man I've known for years."

"It certainly was," Lhiannon agreed, casting her eyes about for the Teyrn. She could not find him. "I could not have come this far without his help and I am grateful to him for it."

Placing a hand on Lhiannon's shoulder, Teagan leaned even closer and spoke quietly into her ear. "Eamon was not at all happy with your decision to conscript Loghain. I believe he truly wanted Loghain executed. When Isolde found out, she was absolutely livid. They are also very unhappy that the Queen reinstated his title."

"Executing Loghain would have been a waste, Teagan," Lhiannon explained, scowling at the thought. "The Grey Wardens needed him. As for Loghain's title, the Queen insisted on it. She had good reasons to do so."

"I hope the Queen does; the last thing Ferelden needs is more turmoil. As for conscripting Loghain, I happen to agree with you; at the time I questioned your decision, but it has benefited Ferelden greatly. Well, no matter," Teagan grinned, waving the thought away with his hand. "The important thing is that the Blight is defeated and we can go about restoring Ferelden to greatness again."

A hand reached out and touched her elbow and Lhiannon turned to see Loghain at her side. "May I have a word with the Arlessa, Teagan?"

Teagan nodded at Loghain, then turned again toward Lhiannon. "Of course, Your Grace. It was good to speak to you again, Lhiannon."

"And you, Teagan." Teagan turned and walked to another bann, shaking the man's hand heartily and clapping him on the back.

Lhiannon turned to look at Loghain and nearly had to do a double take as she took him in. He had tied his long hair back at the nape of his neck with a black cord. He wore a fine nobleman's tunic of dark crimson with gold trim and black pants that were tucked into his high boots.

As she appraised him, Loghain took her in as well. She looked more exquisite than he could ever have pictured. Her dark blue dress accentuated her curves and stirred slowly about her as she moved. It bared her neck and the upper part of her chest, her fair skin contrasting the dark fabric. The sash at her waist emphasized how small her figure was. She was adorned in a simple circlet and small silver hoop earrings for jewelry.

She grinned at him. "You _do_ look like a teyrn."

Loghain scoffed at her. "I feel like a damned fool. Come, the King and Queen wish to greet you before the revelry begins." Loghain began to lead her up to where the King and Queen mingled with other nobles, his hand lightly touching the small of her back. Loghain leaned over to speak into her ear. "You look beautiful."

Lhiannon blushed lightly, which he found charming. "Thank you," she grinned shyly.

"Your dress is lovely."

Lhiannon smiled up at him. "You should probably thank Leliana then; she's the one that picked it out. But I'm glad that you like it."

Loghain lowered his voice and dropped his head closer to her ear, his breath tickling her skin and his voice taking on a wicked tone. "I suspect, however, that it would look lovelier on the floor of my bedchamber."

She looked up at him, an equally wicked look in her eye and a lopsided grin on her face. "Is that a challenge?"

"It is."

"Well then, I must see this for myself before I can judge."

Loghain growled his pleasure in hearing her say that. They were without doubt going to have to leave this affair at their earliest opportunity.

The Queen stood next to the King near the dais, their thrones behind them and the sword that killed the archdemon newly mounted on the wall between them. Alistair had spoken to Anora of his last conversation with the new Arlessa, where she had encouraged him to find common ground with his bride. The time leading up to the defeat of the archdemon had been difficult, with the two of them rarely speaking most days. When they did speak, however, it was mostly to argue and accuse the other of one heinous act or another. After Lhiannon and Loghain had left for Gwaren, Alistair had still been moody, but took Lhiannon's advice to heart and began to find small pieces of common ground with Anora; the need of an heir, for one.

Alistair and Anora both agreed that an heir to Calenhad's line needed to be sired as soon as possible and though that had been awkward at first, it was becoming less so as the weeks passed. Alistair had warned Anora that it was difficult for a Grey Warden to sire children. As a result, they would be speaking to one of Anora's mages in the coming days regarding what help they could provide. Anora knew that if an heir was not conceived soon, Arl Eamon could very well try to have her put aside again. The thought of his past meddling always brought Anora's anger bubbling to the surface.

Anora had also spoken with Alistair about the need to rebuild the parts of Ferelden that were decimated by the Blight and he had wholeheartedly agreed with her plans with barely an argument. They had spoken about Ferelden at length after dinner one evening and Anora found that she had actually enjoyed his company during that time. Alistair had agreed and since that day, common ground was becoming easier to find. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Anora watched as her father found Lhiannon and began to lead her toward where she and Alistair stood. The Queen watched as her father leaned close to Lhiannon's ear, saying something that made the Arlessa turn and smirk at him. Anora had suspected that there was something more than friendship growing between her father and Lhiannon in the days following the defeat of the archdemon; that belief was becoming stronger with each passing moment. She had noticed several times since they arrived in Denerim that when her father looked at Lhiannon, his face would soften and he would occasionally grin at her. Where he spoke curtly to others, his voice was far kinder to her. Before they left for Amaranthine, Anora vowed that she would get to the truth, even if she had to demand it as his sovereign and Queen.

* * *

After the feasting had concluded, Lhiannon stood with Loghain off to the side of the hall. The King saw them standing there and beckoned them forward to join in the first dance of the evening. With a groan, and knowing this hateful experience would be impossible to avoid, she stepped forward with Loghain following close behind. They stood in the line, paired next to the King and Queen for the dance. Loghain stepped forward to Lhiannon before the music began. "Watch me. You'll be fine."

As the music began, Lhiannon watched as Loghain stepped forward, holding his hand out to her. She took it as he spun her around twice, telling her to return to her place as they finished. She did, then found her hands grasped by both Loghain and Alistair with Anora across from her, the four of them moving in a wide circle twice around. They unlinked hands and reformed lines again before Alistair and Anora met in the middle, spinning twice before returning to their place. As they moved for a second set, Loghain came forward to take Lhiannon's hands, moving her in unison with the King and Queen. They repeated the sequence several more times, Lhiannon beginning to feel more confident as they progressed. She had even laughed when she tripped on Loghain's foot, earning an exasperated growl from him. When the song ended, Lhiannon and Loghain bowed to the King and Queen before stepping out of line and moving off toward the side of the room. She turned her head to him as they walked. "I didn't know you could dance."

"Surprised?"

Lhiannon's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "To be honest, yes. Very."

Loghain scoffed at her, trying to hide the grin that threatened to spread across his face. They watched as the King and Queen led two long lines of nobles in another popular folk dance, this one much faster and more complicated than the first. The ale and wine were flowing freely at this point of the evening and more than one noble was spotted lying on the floor of the hall after tripping over their own feet. Lhiannon was laughing at the latest Bann who had fallen to the floor when she felt Loghain's hand on her elbow, gently pulling her through the door next to him. When they entered the hallway, he took her by the hand and led her through the palace toward his chambers in the guest wing. Loghain knew the least traveled ways to get there. There would be few others roaming the halls of the castle with the ball going on; still, he did not want to draw unwanted attention and be herded back to the festivities like sheep.

The farther they moved away from the ballroom, the faster they both moved. They had come to a narrow servants' stairway leading up to the next floor when Loghain stopped and pulled Lhiannon close and hungrily kissed her. Their lips and tongues moved quickly against each other, the friction leaving them both breathless and their blood racing, hot and urgent in their veins. After a moment, she broke the kiss and urged him to continue to his chambers, lest they be discovered. They raced up the stairs, hand in hand, and emerged on the floor near Loghain's door.

He led her into his chambers, bolting the door behind them.

* * *

_A/N: It's a busy, transitional chapter, but I needed to set up a few things for the next part of the story. I have difficulty with transitional chapters, but perhaps with more practice, they'll get better. ;) _

_For the dancing, I was thinking Scottish Strathspey—a little livelier than the English dancing, but not too lively to cause Lhiannon to faint with embarrassment. _

_Thanks again to everyone who has followed along so far. I appreciate all the comments and support. If you haven't chimed in yet, I'd love to hear from you!_


	19. A Dawning Horror

Lhiannon awoke the next morning with the sun warming her bare back. She was snuggled into Loghain's chest and she could hear the steady, strong beating of his heart. She never thought that she would end up here, with Loghain, in his bed, especially at the palace in Denerim. If someone told her just a few months ago that she and Loghain Mac Tir would have fallen in love with each other, she would have thought them lyrium addled. The ways of the Maker were strange indeed.

She quietly slipped out of bed and picked up one of Loghain's discarded shirts on the floor, slipping it on to cover her nakedness. Loghain's bedchamber in the palace had a great double door leading out to a large terrace overlooking the gardens. So as not to awaken him, she silently turned the handle of the door and slipped outside. She left the door open a crack so he could see where she went if he woke up. The day was promising to be bright and warm and she turned her face to the rising sun, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth on her skin.

Her thoughts turned to the ball the night before. She and Loghain had slipped out suddenly, but quietly, not bidding good night to any of the guests or even to the King and Queen. They had other plans in mind and they had focused solely on them. The memory made her grin. She wondered if Alistair and Anora had put two and two together and figured out what had happened to them. They probably had, and Lhiannon wondered in amusement which of their heads spun off their shoulders first. Loghain had been right; her dress did look lovelier on the floor of his bedchamber.

"My shirt has never looked so fine."

Lhiannon turned and saw Loghain leaning on the jamb in the doorway, arms crossed against his bare chest and gazing at her with a look of contentment on his face. His hair was slightly mussed and he had removed the braids at his temples and fingered through the locks. He was wearing only a pair of leather trousers. The old scars on his torso were a slightly lighter shade than his skin. She also saw the more recent ones that were healing, those being slightly red still. She thanked the Maker that that was all he had to show for the trouble they had been through recently. She gave him a broad smile as she walked over to him and he opened his arms to her. She settled in against his chest, breathing in his intoxicating smell and reveling in the warmth of his touch as he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"I could get used to this," Lhiannon said as she raised her head to look up at Loghain. He gave her a smile and lowered his lips to hers. It was gentle and sweet, which were two things she never would have expected from him. Reluctantly, he pulled away and settled his chin on top of her head.

"We're going to have to see the King today," he started. "I'm sure we'll be given our orders to go to Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine soon."

"I'm sure we'll also have to answer to him as to why we disappeared from the ball last night. It could make his head spin you know."

Loghain chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest, "I don't plan on discussing such things with my son-in-law, even if he is King. He can figure it out on his own." He sighed and drew her even closer, holding her tightly. He was not ready to leave just yet but knew they had to move along soon before the King started pounding on his chamber doors. He would probably try Lhiannon's first and, not finding her there, would make Loghain's chambers the second stop. No doubt he would be raving as he walked the castle halls. It would be amusing though to see the look on the King's face if he saw them now—Loghain dressed only in trousers and Lhiannon in Loghain's shirt.

Lhiannon looked up at him, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. She backed out of his arms and removed his shirt, standing naked before him. "I'm sure we have a few moments before we have to leave." She grabbed the laces of his trousers and pulled him back toward the bed. He did not resist.

* * *

Not long after, Lhiannon and Loghain appeared in the King and Queen's private study. Lhiannon had barely made it back to her quarters to dress when one of the servants arrived with the summons.

"Very well," Lhiannon told the servant. "Go summon Teyrn Loghain and have him meet us there as well." The servant bowed and left.

Lhiannon was leaving her suite just as Loghain was passing by her rooms. Both of them were in their armor and new Grey Warden tunics, their weapons sheathed and within reach. They walked together toward the study, ready to receive the King's orders.

It was the Queen who was waiting for them when they arrived, seated at an ornate desk. She motioned to the two chairs across from the desk, where Lhiannon and Loghain directed themselves. "I apologize that Alistair could not be here to send you off, but he had urgent business to attend to this morning. An ambassador has just arrived from the Free Marches and wishes to discuss new trade agreements and what help they can provide to Ferelden in recovering from the Blight. It will be good practice for him."

Anora beckoned a young woman, heavily armored, into the chamber. Her name was Mhairi and she had been sent by the Seneschal of Vigil's Keep to accompany Lhiannon and Loghain there. The Seneschal requested that they come as soon as possible as the Grey Wardens from Orlais had just arrived and were looking forward to helping their Ferelden brothers and sisters rebuild their order. This, of course, set Loghain to grumbling about the damned Orlesians once again. After a moment of grumbling, Anora turned to Mhairi.

"Would you please wait outside, Mahiri? I need to speak with the Teyrn and Warden Commander for a few moments."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Mhairi said, bowing to the Queen before leaving the chamber and closing the door behind her. Anora watched as her father and Lhiannon followed Mhairi's progress from the room. Both of them had neutral looks on their faces. Anora quickly studied her father's features as he turned back toward her, his eyes lighting on Lhiannon for a brief moment. The perpetual scowl on his face was definitely softer this morning.

One of the Queen's ladies, Vivian, had observed her father leading a lady through the darkened halls of the castle last night, ducking toward a servants' stairway when he thought he heard footsteps in the halls. Vivian watched from the shadows as the Queen's father pulled the lady close and kissed her; not a chaste kiss either. This intrigued Anora and she asked Vivian if she knew whom the mysterious lady with her father was. Vivian described the woman as one with dark hair and a long, dark dress trimmed in white with a white sash. Anora knew then that the woman with her father was none other than the Hero of Ferelden herself.

Anora had given a great deal of thought to this development, both immediately after the defeat of the archdemon and after Vivian's observation from last night. Her father had not fancied any woman since her mother died; not that she was aware of anyway. He had thrown himself into duty since becoming a widower. King Maric had tried talking him into taking a wife again, but he had never done so. Anora reconciled herself to the fact that her father had decided that duty to the King and Ferelden was more important than any woman.

Now it appeared that he found someone special. The Hero of Ferelden..._an interesting choice_, she thought. It was not that the Queen did not like Lhiannon; not at all. Anora respected and admired Lhiannon for everything she had done for Ferelden. She had spared her father's life when others wanted to see him dead. She supported Anora in keeping the throne, even if it meant marrying another Theirin. All these things made it hard for Anora to oppose this blossoming relationship. If her father cared for this woman, she would support him. It did not mean, however, that she could not make them squirm a little for not being direct with her.

Once Mhairi secured the door behind her, Anora looked at Lhiannon and Loghain warily for a moment. "You two left the ball early last night. You must have been very…tired." Lhiannon could feel her face turning red and willed it to stop, to no avail. Loghain looked at the Queen in stony silence.

"One of my ladies saw the two of you sneaking through the halls of the palace last night. She mentioned to me this morning how she saw my father and a young woman together heading toward his chambers." Anora turned to look directly at Lhiannon. "She wanted to know who you were, Commander. I didn't know whom she was talking about until she described your clothing to me. That's when I realized it was you.

"I will ask _you_ this, since I know I will not receive a straight answer from my father. What, exactly, is going on between the two of you?"

"Anora!" Loghain spat, the annoyance clearly evident in his voice. "What in the Maker's name are you doing?"

Anora turned her stony gaze to her father. "I will command your silence, Father, if you interrupt me again." Loghain looked like he wanted to breathe fire at his own daughter, his anger was becoming so great. He stayed silent, however. Lhiannon felt as if she were a rabbit caught in a snare.

Lhiannon looked at the Queen's stony face and nearly laughed at how much like she resembled her father just now. Laughing, however, would be highly inappropriate; the Queen was waiting for her response. Lhiannon's mind whirled with how she would say it, but in the end, thought simplicity would be best.

"I love him, Your Majesty," Lhiannon said shrugging her shoulders and splaying her hands out in front of her. "I don't think I can say it more simply than that."

Lhiannon saw Loghain shift in his chair out of the corner of her eye. He looked both annoyed and uncomfortable with this whole conversation. He held up a hand to Anora. She turned to look at her father, her face a well-practiced mask of neutrality.

"Is it true? You love her?" Anora asked him.

Loghain let his hand fall back to his lap, holding Anora's gaze with his own. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose, the small noise the only thing audible in the room. "Yes," he simply said, shifting in his chair slightly.

"Why did you not tell me this earlier, Father?" Anora asked, her voice softening slightly. "When I asked you at Fort Drakon?"

Lhiannon turned to Loghain; he could see the questions on her face. He shifted in his chair again, running his hand through his hair and grimacing. "I could barely admit it to myself then, Anora. How was I to tell you?"

"You knew then?" Lhiannon asked, raising her brows at Loghain. He watched one corner of her mouth turn up in a smirk, which she tried to cover with her hand.

"Must you both gang up on me?" he said, exasperated at both of them. "I need not be scolded like a child nor interrogated like a criminal." _Women and their need to talk about these things, Maker help me._

"I think that as your daughter, I have a right to know what is important in my father's life." Anora sat back in her chair, her face softening further as she looked at her father. "Father, you know you are the most important thing in the world to me. I wish to see you well. If the Commander pleases you, then I will accept that. Though I cringe at the gossip this will create in court."

"Anora, you know full well that I could not care less what those at court think of me. This is no different," Loghain said, rolling his eyes at her.

Anora turned to look at Lhiannon, a guarded expression on her face. "You _will_ be good to my father, Commander. There is always room for one more in the dungeon."

Lhiannon gave the Queen a small smile. "I will, Your Majesty."

Anora stood, indicating that their private audience was concluding. "Now, if I were to two of you, I would make haste for Vigil's Keep as soon as possible. Once the King finds out about your relationship, he will likely want your heads on pikes." Lhiannon heard Loghain scoff next to her, holding his hand out for Anora to take. She looked up at her father as she took it. "It's a fine mess you have left me, dealing with the King in this matter."

* * *

Lhiannon and Loghain had quickly assembled what needed to be taken to Vigil's Keep before meeting Mhairi at the stables. Stable boys were preparing the horses for the trip as Lhiannon and Loghain approached. Mhairi saw them coming and gave a short bow to Lhiannon.

"Commander, we shall be ready to ride for Vigil's Keep soon."

"Very good, Mhairi." Lhiannon indicated to Loghain. "This is my second in command, Warden Loghain."

A dark shadow crossed Mhairi's face as Lhiannon watched. Mhairi gave Loghain a barely perceptible nod. "Warden," she spat, the disdain clear in her voice.

Loghain scoffed at the young prospective Warden. "Am I to assume then that my presence offends you?"

"_Everything_ about you offends me, _Warden_," Mhairi growled, her eyes staring into Loghain's in an obvious challenge.

"You are certainly not the first to take such offense," he said to her, his voice as cool as his returning stare. "I daresay you shall not be the last either."

"I didn't think betrayers and regicides were welcomed into the Grey Wardens," she spat at him. "The Grey Wardens deserve better than the likes of you."

Lhiannon thought Loghain looked both amused and annoyed with Mhairi's outburst. "How very much like the King sounded. You have much to learn, girl."

Mhairi looked to speak again but Lhiannon held up her hand to silence her. "Mhairi, the Grey Wardens accept anyone into their ranks that they feel can help them best defeat the darkspawn and the Blight. Do you know much about Grey Warden history?"

The young soldier looked at Lhiannon with confusion on her face. "No, Commander, I don't know very much."

"The man who recruited me and King Alistair into the Grey Wardens was a thief and murderer. I helped a blood mage escape from Kinloch Hold. What Loghain has done is well known. The point, Mhairi, is that once you go through the Joining, what happened before then is simply the past. A new life begins after the Joining."

Mhairi's face twisted in a grimace. "Murderers? Regicides? The Grey Wardens accept these people?"

"Redemption can be found in service, Mhairi. The man that recruited me, Duncan, became a well respected figure within the Grey Wardens. He found redemption there. I can tell you that Loghain has become a fine Grey Warden and I would not be here without his help. We are far from perfect; but I think that also makes us strive to be better."

"But, Commander…"

Lhiannon held up a hand, her face becoming hard. "Enough, Mhairi. If Warden Loghain's presence is so offensive to you, then you do not have to become a Grey Warden. No one will look upon you any less if you decide you don't want to join."

Mhairi shook her head quickly. "No, Commander. I _do_ want to join the Grey Wardens. Your defeat of the archdemon is what drove me to seek the Grey Wardens out. It is something I feel I _must_ do." She cast her eyes down briefly before raising them to meet Lhiannon's again, her resolve set in them. "I look forward to fighting at your side, Commander."

* * *

"This is strange," Mhairi commented, her eyes narrowing and glancing around warily. The three of them had been on the road for several days and were looking forward to sleeping in warm beds and eating hot meals once they arrived at Vigil's Keep. Even Loghain was willing to tolerate the presence of Orlesians if it meant warm blankets and hot stew.

"What is strange?" Lhiannon asked, moving her hand toward the hilt of her sword. A feeling of wrongness began to tickle at her senses. The birds had stopped chattering long ago and even the rustling of the leaves in the trees had taken an ominous tone. She noticed that Loghain had also moved his hands near his weapon and shield, readying himself for as yet unseen predators.

"We're nearly at Vigil's Keep, yet there is no one here to welcome us," Mhairi said, anxiousness and confusion in her voice. "They knew we would be arriving soon. There are usually sentries posted outside the compound."

"What, the Orlesians couldn't be bothered to stir themselves? Shocking." Loghain grumbled quietly. Something began to tickle at his Grey Warden senses though, causing him to pull his shield and sword into fighting position. Lhiannon had felt it too, and she pulled her sword from her scabbard.

"Commander, what is it?" Mhairi asked. As soon as she spoke, their attention was drawn toward the chaotic sounds of several people running from the direction of Vigil's Keep. Closely pursuing them were a number of darkspawn.

"Take them down!" Lhiannon shouted as she buried her sword Spellweaver into the nearest darkspawn. A number of the creatures had burst forth from the compound and immediately began to attack. The Grey Wardens and Mhairi made short work of them however and when the last darkspawn fell, they turned to the fleeing individuals to question them. They learned that darkspawn had invaded Vigil's Keep and that the Orlesian Grey Wardens had not sensed them until the creatures were nearly on top of them. By then it was far too late to organize any sort of resistance. These darkspawn were acting in an organized manner, something that should not be happening with the archdemon destroyed.

"Could something be leading them?" Mhairi asked Lhiannon, kicking a dead genlock with her boot and scowling at it in disgust.

"I don't see how. The archdemon is dead. Darkspawn scatter to the four winds without an archdemon to lead them."

"If there isn't an archdemon to lead them," Loghain began, rubbing his chin in thought, "then what is? Darkspawn are barely capable of basic industry, let alone trying to organize themselves."

"I don't understand how the Orlesians didn't sense them sooner. There were about a dozen Wardens here with some soldiers," Mhairi explained.

"Let's move on," Loghain said, holding his sword and shield at the ready. "We need to get to Vigil's Keep to see what has happened there."

When they arrived at the fortress, darkspawn were everywhere. They fought their way through masses of them, seeing bodies of the dead as they progressed further and further into the fortress. Crates of weapons and supplies were overturned and in some cases burning. Acrid smoke filled the air; Lhiannon recognized the smell of charred darkspawn flesh and corruption. She also sensed magical forces in the air.

"Be cautious," she quietly warned Loghain and Mhairi. "I sense magic; I don't know if there is a mage here or darkspawn emissaries."

"Let's hope for a mage," Mhairi commented quietly.

Another group of darkspawn emerged from a side passage and fell on them immediately. Lhiannon cast several fire spells as Loghain and Mhairi slashed their way through the ranks. Several of the creatures broke off and began to run up a side stairway, Loghain close behind in pursuit. As he reached a landing at the top of the stairs, he saw a male mage casting fire spells at a group of darkspawn that had attempted to surround him. Several dead bodies lay around the mage, still sending up tendrils of acrid smoke. Loghain dispatched the remaining darkspawn on the landing and turned to regard the mage and the devastation around him. Loghain noticed that one of the bodies burning next to the mage was not a darkspawn, but a templar. His brow raised in questioning as he looked up at the mage. The mage had followed Loghain's stare and quickly turned to regard him.

"I didn't do it," the mage sputtered, holding up his hands in supplication and nervously watching the heavily armored Loghain and his bloodied sword. "Though he did make an amusing little gurgling sound when he died." He paused, looking at Loghain warily. "You're not a templar, are you?"

"I don't remember accusing you of any such thing. And I'm hardly a templar," Loghain commented, lowering his sword but keeping it ready in case he needed it. He heard footsteps pounding up the stairs behind him and turned to see Lhiannon and Mhairi come through the doorway, their swords dripping dark ichor. Lhiannon came up next to Loghain and looked at the mage, her eyes going wide. The mage's eyes went from Loghain to Lhiannon and also went wide.

"Lhi?" he asked in disbelief.

"Andy?"

"You know him?" Loghain asked cautiously, turning to Lhiannon. Her face held an astonished look on it.

"Yes, I do know him. Quite well, in fact. We both studied magic at Kinloch Hold. This is Anders." Lhiannon turned to Anders, introducing him to both Loghain and Mhairi. Anders bowed his head in greeting. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Andy, what are you doing here?" Lhiannon asked. Her eyes suddenly narrowed when she saw the dead templar among the darkspawn. "You didn't escape again, did you?"

Anders ran a hand over his head, looking down at his feet in embarrassment. "Well, kind of. The templar was taking me back to Kinloch Hold when the darkspawn attacked. Now he's dead. It's a shame really. I feel so bad."

"I'm sure you do," Lhiannon remarked sarcastically.

"Well, now that you're here, I feel ever so much better," Anders said, attempting to brush the dirt off his robes. "Disgusting creatures. I just bought this robe and look at it now; I'll never get their blood and fetid stink off of it." He brought his gaze back to Lhiannon. "I'd be happy to help you fight the darkspawn, Lhi. Do you need a hand?"

"Is your healing magic better than hers?" Loghain asked, raising an eyebrow at Lhiannon.

"Oh, going to start that again, are we?" Lhiannon scoffed, giving Loghain a gentle push on his breast plate. "Insufferable man."

Anders turned to look at Lhiannon. "You haven't been working on your healing magic? I _had_ better come along before you kill someone."

Lhiannon could hear Loghain chuckling beside her. She rolled her eyes and looked at Anders. "Please, don't encourage him."

* * *

The continued their way through Vigil's Keep, battling more darkspawn and eventually finding Oghren, of all people. While Lhiannon was happy to see her friend, the others in her group were less than enthusiastic about it, especially when Oghren's eyes began crawling all over Mhairi's figure. Lhiannon was somewhat surprised to hear Oghren say he wanted to try his hand at being a Grey Warden, but since their numbers were still few, she welcomed anyone who wanted to join. Loghain felt his stomach roll at the thought, and smell of, Oghren and his vile dwarven ale again. If Oghren started singing dwarven drinking songs again, Loghain swore to the Maker he would put his sword through the dwarf's gullet.

As they neared a door leading outside, they heard the labored breathing of an injured man. Mhairi ran forward and found a gravely injured solder she knew from Redcliffe. The soldier said the seneschal ordered a counterattack on the darkspawn after the initial attack. During the exchange, they learned something that made Lhiannon's blood run cold.

One of them could talk.

"A _talking_ darkspawn?" Lhiannon asked the soldier. "Wonderful. What can you tell us of this creature?"

"It has powerful magic, Commander." The soldier paused as a fit of coughing overtook him, fine droplets of blood spraying out of his mouth. "It went after the seneschal. You must help him…" He took a hitching breath and as he exhaled, blood began to trickle out of his mouth. His head dropped back as his lifeless eyes stared toward the ceiling.

"I will avenge you," Mhairi swore, gently reaching forward and closing the soldier's eyes. "We will find this talking darkspawn and slay it."

Lhiannon cautiously opened the door to the outside, peering around the edge to see how many darkspawn they would be contending with. The taint told her that there were several out there; not an extraordinary number of them, but enough to be concerning. As she looked about, she saw a man in heavy chain armor bound and forced to his knees, a hurlock behind him holding a vicious blade to his throat. There was another darkspawn standing in front of them, holding a terrified soldier by the throat; they all heard the creature's raspy, broken voice from their vantage point. As they watched in mute horror, the creature turned and threw the soldier over the edge, his screams abruptly ending a brief moment later. Lhiannon heard Mhairi's quiet gasp from behind her.

"That must be the seneschal they are holding," Loghain muttered quietly. Lhiannon heard the seneschal responding indignantly to the darkspawn in front of him.

"Come, we need to help him," Lhiannon beckoned to the others, who followed her out the door and onto the roof. The seneschal spotted Lhiannon out of the corner of his eye at the same time the talking darkspawn did.

"Commander," he said, his voice raspy.

The darkspawn turned to regard Lhiannon and Loghain, motioning toward the darkspawn around it. "This one wants the Grey Wardens captured. The others can die." As soon as the words were out of its mouth, the darkspawn attacked.

Loghain and Mhairi moved to draw the darkspawn away from the seneschal, swords cutting a path of destruction through their ranks. Lhiannon ran forward and cut the ropes binding the seneschal's hands behind his back. He jumped up and hastily pulled a dagger from his boot, joining the others in fighting the darkspawn. Flames were shooting out of Anders' hands while Loghain was systematically running darkspawn through with his sword. Lhiannon was using both steel and magic to fight the creatures, occasionally healing the others as best she could.

In several minutes time, it was over. The darkspawn lay dead or dying around them, Loghain checking each one and plunging his sword into any surviving creatures. Lhiannon walked up to where the talking darkspawn lay. She hunkered down next to it, looking at its strange face and clothing with a mixture of fascination and revulsion. It resembled a hurlock, but its skin was a pale grayish-white with large red patches. Instead of the usual mishmash of armor darkspawn usually wore, this one appeared to have a complete set of well-crafted chain armor. She had never seen a darkspawn like this one before and the sight made her blood run cold.

"It called itself, 'The Withered'," a raspy voice said from behind her.

Lhiannon stood and turned to face the seneschal. He looked a few years younger than Loghain, but had gray hair and a square, pleasant face.

"I can see why it did. Nasty creature," Lhiannon agreed.

"I am Seneschal Varel," he said, holding out his hand to Lhiannon. "Thank you for your help. I owe you all my life." She shook his offered hand and nodded.

"I'm sorry we didn't arrive sooner," Lhiannon said, looking at the carnage around her. Loghain had rejoined her, he and Varel introducing themselves with a firm handshake. Varel looked out over the grounds of the fortress and noticed riders in the distance, headed directly for Vigil's Keep.

"I see riders are approaching the gates," Varel sighed wearily. "Let us go see if these guests are more friendly than the last."

* * *

_A/N: I hope you're all ready to move on to the "Awakening" part of the program. :)_

_Thanks again, everyone, for taking the time to read and review the story. It means a lot and I appreciate you all!  
_


	20. Rebuilding the Ferelden Grey

Lhiannon, Loghain, and Varel walked out of the fortress toward the gates to greet their guests, the others walking just behind them. Lhiannon caught a flash of gleaming gold armor and knew right away who at least one of their visitors was. Whether this was a good sign or not, she was unsure. As the guests approached, Lhiannon bent down onto one knee, her head bowed in respect to the approaching King. A quick glance to her right saw Loghain also down on one knee, his joint popping loudly as it bent. Lhiannon quickly shot a glance at him with an eyebrow raised and fought to keep a smirk off her face.

"Must you snicker like a child?" Loghain whispered in exasperation. Lhiannon scoffed at him, then turned her attention toward the King. One of the templars accompanying him had continued walking past the group and into the fortress, barely giving anyone a second glance.

Alistair looked at the dead darkspawn around them before motioning for Lhiannon and Loghain to rise. "Looks like I arrived too late to help. I do miss the whole darkspawn killing thing. Helps you burn off some anger." He turned to Varel, pointedly ignoring Lhiannon and Loghain. "What is the situation here?"

Varel sighed wearily. "The Grey Wardens from Orlais arrived not long ago, but are either dead or missing after the attack. The darkspawn fell upon us so quickly that there was little time to react."

"Missing?" Alistair asked incredulously. "Did the darkspawn take them prisoner? Do the darkspawn even _do_ that? I didn't think they were bright enough for such things."

Varel shook his head. "I don't know, Your Majesty. All I know is that we cannot account for all of the Grey Wardens. We shall continue our efforts to find them."

Alistair looked at Lhiannon and scoffed loudly, his face hard as stone. "Well, at least you have the Hero of Ferelden here."

"It's good to see you, Your Majesty," Lhiannon said as she bowed her head to him. A pit suddenly formed in her stomach when she could feel his growing bitterness through the taint. _He knows,_ Lhiannon thought to herself. _Maker be merciful._

"I'm sorry I can't stay to help you kill the darkspawn," Alistair said, his voice as cold as the stare he received from Loghain. "You're going to be on your own for the time being. Do what you can to bolster your numbers, especially since some of the Orlesian Wardens are unaccounted for." He glared at Loghain for a brief moment before turning back toward Lhiannon. "Commander, I would speak to you in private. _Now._" He turned and walked toward the gate, Lhiannon following close behind.

Varel turned to Loghain, his brows raised in confusion as he watched the King and the Commander walk off. "What has the Commander done to earn the ire of His Majesty?" he asked quietly.

Loghain scoffed at Varel, watching as Lhiannon and Alistair stopped and began to converse, their gestures quickly becoming heated. "I am the topic of that conversation."

Varel watched as the King pointed at Lhiannon, who glared at him and refused to give any ground. Whatever they were discussing, it was clearly angering both of them. "Why would you be the topic of their conversation?"

Loghain crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching the exchange between Alistair and Lhiannon warily. "Because the King disapproves of her association with me. Vehemently."

* * *

"You couldn't even tell me yourself? I had to hear it from _Anora_?" Alistair spat at Lhiannon, red splotches blooming high on his cheekbones. As soon as they were out of earshot of the others, Alistair had whirled about on Lhiannon, looming over her in his anger. "What could you possibly be thinking, Lhiannon? That man is a disgusting excuse for a Grey Warden _and_ Teyrn. And you're _fucking _him?"

Lhiannon felt her own anger begin to rise. "You came all this way just to berate me?"

"I had hoped to meet with the Grey Wardens from Orlais, but it appears the darkspawn got to them first. But yes, I also came here to deal with _you_."

Lhiannon shook her head in disbelief. "What about the ambassador from the Free Marches? Did you just up and leave him? How could you do that?"

Alistair looked at her indignantly. "Do you think me a fool? No, we concluded our negotiations rather quickly—there wasn't much to discuss that wasn't already in place. When he left, I came at a forced march. Don't change the subject, Lhiannon."

She glared at him with narrowed eyes. "And just what _is_ the subject, exactly?"

"We're talking about how you could have brought yourself so low as to rut with _him_ like a bloody animal!" Alistair snarled at her, pointing toward Loghain in the distance.

Lhiannon took a step toward Alistair, feeling the rage inside her threatening to boil over. "I don't have to justify my relationship with him to you, Alistair."

"You will if I command it as your King," he snapped, holding his chin up defiantly.

Lhainnon looked at him in angry disbelief. Her eyes narrowed at him. "And you would do that? Would command me to explain why I love Loghain to _my King_?" She watched Alistair flinch as the spoke Loghain's name to him. "You have some nerve, _Your Majesty._"

"It was bad enough that you invoked the Right with him. Then I had to watch him hold his 'vigil' over you at Fort Drakon. I thought I had seen it all when Anora went behind my back and made him Teyrn again." Alistair turned and took several steps away, fists shaking in anger. He whirled about and charged up to Lhiannon again, pointing in the direction of Loghain once more as he did so. "But then to hear that you were _fucking_ him was more than I could stand!"

Lhiannon closed the distance between them, her chin held high in indignation and anger growing. "Alistair, I am not going to stand here and let you speak to me like a sailor in an Antivan whorehouse. I do not appreciate your vulgarity."

The King made no notice of her reaction. "It wouldn't be as bad if you were simply fucking him, but to hear that you're _in love_ with him? I can't believe you sunk so low. Are you working to be his teyrna so that when he tries to usurp the throne again, you'll be his queen?" The vulgarity and acid in his voice were more than Lhiannon could stand; she did not realize she slapped Alistair until her hand was following through after contacting his cheek, the stinging running up her arm and the sound of the crack echoing off the walls next to them. Angry tears began to fall from Lhiannon's eyes and she swiped them away with her fingers. She watched as Alistair brought a hand up to his cheek, covering the red welt that was quickly growing there. His eyes widened and the anger began to drain from his face to be replaced by a bitter shame. He tore his eyes from Lhiannon's and stared down at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Alistair, you are the dearest friend that I have. To hear you say such things breaks my heart," Lhiannon growled, the tears continuing to fall from her eyes. "I know he's not who _you_ would have wanted me to choose, but that's _my_ decision to make." She caught his gaze as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. He quickly looked away again as he saw her tears continuing to fall. "I love him, Alistair. I can't explain how it happened, other than it _did_. Neither one of us expected it.

"I won't defend his past actions, Alistair. But I will defend him in this respect: he is a fine Grey Warden and I would not have been able to make it this far without his help. For that, I shall always be grateful to him. I wasn't alone in defeating the Blight; he was right there with me. You should think upon that the next time you wish to thank the Grey Wardens for saving your kingdom from the archdemon and the Blight."

Alistair continued to rub his reddened cheek, finally bringing his gaze up to meet Lhiannon's. She could see the dampness in his eyes as well. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, releasing it before speaking again. "Lhiannon, I apologize for how I spoke to you. It was rude of me to do so in such a manner." Lhiannon nodded to him, still wiping the tears off her face.

"I can't believe you slapped me," he said, scoffing lightly. He watched a corner of her mouth turn up in a slight grin. "I could have you executed for that, you know."

Lhiannon's grin grew slightly wider. She sniffled and took a deep, cleansing breath before speaking. "Well, you could have me executed, but that would leave Loghain in charge of the Grey Wardens. I knew you wouldn't want that, so I knew I could get away with it."

"Lhiannon," he began, coming forward and grasping her shoulders gently. "In all seriousness, I do want to see you happy. I would rather it not be with him, to be perfectly honest. I don't like him. I don't _have_ to like him."

With a scoff, Lhiannon brought her hand up to Alistair's cheek, sending a small amount of healing magic into it. "I'm not asking you to like him, Alistair. I'm asking you to accept the fact that I love him. I know you don't like it, but it's my decision."

Alistair jerked his head in the direction of Loghain, Varel, and the others. "Well, I think we've given them enough of a spectacle," Alistair sighed, releasing Lhiannon's shoulders and turning to walk back toward the others. They were still watching the King and Warden Commander with varying degrees of wariness and amusement. As Alistair and Lhiannon rejoined them, the lady templar that accompanied Alistair to Vigil's Keep suddenly came striding out of the fortress and marched up to Anders, grasping him by the arm and jerking him away. "Hey, you'll dirty my robes!" he protested, nearly tripping as the templar dragged him toward the King. The templar scowled at him and turned to Alistair.

"This man is a dangerous criminal and apostate, Your Majesty. The templars were bringing him back to the Circle for justice."

"Justice," Anders scoffed. "What you sodding templars know of justice can fit into a thimble with room to spare. It was the darkspawn that killed the templar in the fortress…oh, I give up. You won't listen to me or believe me anyhow, so I won't waste my breath."

The templar jerked Anders' arm, causing Anders to yelp as the metal of her gauntlets began to pierce his robes and the skin beneath. "I will see your neck stretched, murderer."

Alistair turned from the templar to regard Lhiannon, a twinkle in his eye and a brow raised. "Well, _I_ really don't have much to say about this, unless you do Commander."

Lhiannon grinned. She loved giving the templars grief and this was no exception. A little entertainment after what had just transpired would make her feel better. "I could always use another mage as a Grey Warden." She turned and walked to the templar, prying the woman's hands off Anders' arm. "You may remove your hands from him now. I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription for Anders. He will be a Grey Warden."

The templar was incensed and looked at Lhiannon with murder in her eyes. She turned and began to plead with Alistair. "No. I won't allow this. Your Majesty, this mage is a criminal and must be punished."

"Ah, Your Majesty. You do know that by 'punished', she means 'killed', right?" Anders pointed out.

Alistair shrugged his shoulders, the metal of his armor scraping against one another as the plates moved. "The last I knew, Grey Wardens could invoke the Right as they saw fit. I'll allow it."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," the templar agreed reluctantly, glaring at Lhiannon before she turned and stomped off. Anders breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Lhi. I think." Lhiannon shrugged her shoulders at him. "Don't thank me yet."

Alistair turned to Varel once more. "Well, now that that's settled, I'll be taking my leave. I think I shall visit Amaranthine before going back to Denerim."

Varel bowed to Alistair. "We have had great losses, Your Majesty, and must now deal with the survivors and replenish the Grey Wardens' numbers. I thank you for coming."

Alistair nodded, turning toward Lhiannon and Loghain. He strode forward and put a hand on Lhiannon's shoulder. "It's up to you now to deal with the remnants of the Blight and keep Ferelden safe. I have every confidence in you. I'll be in contact soon. Maker watch over you." The King then turned to Loghain, a hard glare in his eyes. "Do you have any message you would like to convey to your daughter?"

Loghain turned his cool eyes to the King. "You may tell her that, as always, she is in my thoughts." With a curt nod, Alistair turned and joined the retreating templars.

"Commander, we have urgent matters to discuss."

Lhiannon tore her eyes off Alistair's retreating form and turned to face Varel, who motioned for them to head toward the fortress. "What sort of matters?"

"First off, I want you to know that as seneschal, I will help you rule your lands. I know that being Arlesa is completely new to you and I will provide any help and advice you require. Second, we must perform the Joining and add to the Grey Warden's ranks. Once again, Ferelden has all of two Grey Wardens."

Lhiannon and Loghain followed Varel up the steps to the main doors of Vigil's Keep. He opened the doors and motioned them inside to the main audience chamber. Lhiannon looked around her new fortress. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined the walls and in some niches, paintings of scowling Howes looked down upon her. Varel led them to the back of the chamber where he opened a set of cabinet doors and brought out several vials of darkspawn blood and a simple chalice in which to place them. Lhiannon and Loghain stood behind Varel as he prepared for the Joining. Once the wine and darkspawn blood were mixed, Varel handed the chalice to Lhiannon before he turned to Oghren, Mhairi, and Anders and began to speak the words of the ritual.

"Join us, brothers and sister. Join us in the shadows, where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry out the duty that cannot be forsworn; and should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day, we shall join you."

Oghren stepped forward first, grumbling about the chalice being the sampler size and wondering if they were making fun of his height. Lhiannon and Loghain both rolled their eyes.

"The size doesn't matter, Oghren," Lhiannon sighed with exasperation as she handed him the chalice.

"Funny, that's exactly what Felsi said the first time I…"

"Oghren! Drink the damn blood," Lhiannon growled. _One-track mind._

Oghren drained the chalice in one gulp, belching loudly before falling over into a snoring bundle on the floor. "He lives, Commander," Varel said, relief in his voice. Lhiannon picked up the empty chalice and handed it to Varel.

After preparing the chalice again, Lhiannon turned to Anders and handed it to him. Anders was visibly nervous about the ordeal, telling Varel that if he ends up on a Ravaini bound ship in two weeks with a tattoo on his forehead, it would be his fault. Lhiannon held her breath as Anders drank the blood, praying to the Maker that her friend would survive. Anders' eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the floor in a heap. He was breathing heavily though and Lhiannon let loose the breath she had not realized she was holding.

It was finally Mhairi's turn for the Joining. She had been looking forward to this moment since the Grey Wardens first approached her. She took the chalice and drank; Lhiannon watched as Mhairi began to sputter and choke, her face twisting in pain as her knees began to buckle. Mhairi fell forward and convulsed for a moment before both her breathing and pain stilled. "Oh Mhairi," Lhiannon whispered, anguish in her voice. She crouched down, placing her hand on Mhairi's cheek. "Maker watch over you," Lhiannon whispered softly.

Varel stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Lhiannon's shoulder. "I shall prepare a pyre for her, Commander. The Orlesians set up a small memorial outside to commemorate those who do not survive the Joining. I shall have her name inscribed on it."

"Thank you, Varel."

* * *

After the Joining ceremony, Lhiannon met two others who would be helping run Amaranthine with her. The first was Mistress Woolsley from Weisshaupt, a stern looking woman with her hair tied back into a severe bun. The second was Captain Garavel, a man not much older than Lhiannon who was commander of the army in Amaranthine. Both gave her an update regarding the recent problems in the arling concerning the main road from Denerim to Amaranthine and the discovery of an entrance to the Deep Roads in the countryside that was teeming with darkspawn.

When the briefing was concluded, Lhiannon turned to Loghain, who had been scanning one of the bookshelves along the wall. "Come, take a walk with me," Lhiannon suggested. "I need some fresh air after all of this." Loghain returned the book he was holding to the shelf and followed Lhiannon outside.

"You have been here before, yes?" Lhiannon asked Loghain once they were outside. The fresh air felt wonderful and she felt some of her weariness drain away. She felt as if she could sleep for a month.

"It has been some time, but yes."

"Do you know of some place private? I just want to sit for awhile without interruptions." Loghain led her to a corner of the compound where a statue of Andraste looked down over a small bench. They both sat, Lhiannon giving a great sigh as she did so.

"How do you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Run an entire teyrnir? I've only been here one day and I can barely keep the arling together."

Loghain chuckled, removing one of his gauntlets and placing it on the bench beside him. He picked up one of Lhiannon's hands and removed her gauntlet, taking her hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. "You need capable, trustworthy people around you to whom you can delegate duties. Varel seems very capable. He will help you a great deal."

"I'd also appreciate any advice you may have," Lhiannon said quietly. "It would mean a great deal to me."

"You shall have it. You need only ask."

"Thank you, Loghain."

"You slapped the King," Loghain said, his voice both amused and disbelieving. "I have wanted to do that myself on more than one occasion. I daresay that I am jealous."

Lhiannon sighed, the sound melancholy as they sat on the bench. She shrugged. "I didn't realize I did it until my hand started to sting. I shouldn't have slapped him though. I couldn't help it; he was saying some very vulgar things."

"Perhaps he needed it to gain some perspective."

Lhiannon shook her other gauntlet off, running the finger on her hand across Loghain's. She traced the tiny scars there as he held her other hand in his, his thumb moving softly against her skin. She turned to look up at him and found him studying her. He removed his other gauntlet and brought his hand up to her face, caressing her cheek to offer her comfort. She turned her head into it and closed her eyes, savoring his gentle touch. He ran his thumb along the scar that snaked its way toward her temple from her eye, leaning forward to kiss it when his thumb was finished tracing it. Lhiannon brought her free hand up to Loghain's face, caressing the skin as her hand moved to the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip, inviting him into her mouth. He obliged her by caressing her lips with his tongue before chasing hers. He pulled her close and would have crushed her against him were it not for the layers of metal between them.

"Commander? Commander!"

Lhiannon paused in her kiss, her shoulders dropping in disappointment as she pulled away from Loghain. "Whoever that is," she growled quietly at Loghain, "is going to be demoted a rank and sent off the clean the privies."

"Harsh," he snickered.

Lhiannon and Loghain stood, donning their gauntlets as a young woman in scale armor rounded the side of a nearby building, nearly running into them. Lhiannon held her hands up to stop the soldier's forward progress.

"Easy soldier. What has you in such haste?" she asked, looking at the soldier warily.

The soldier bounded to a stop, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Commander, I was sent to tell you of a prisoner we have recently apprehended."

Lhiannon sighed. _What now?_ "What of this prisoner?"

"We caught him sneaking around the Vigil in the middle of the night recently. When we discovered him, it took four Grey Wardens to apprehend him."

Lhiannon turned to Loghain; he raised his brow at her. "It took four Wardens to capture him?" Loghain asked. "This is certainly interesting."

Lhiannon turned to the soldier. "Very well. We shall go see this prisoner for ourselves. Lead on."

The soldier led them to the dungeon entrance. Lhiannon and Loghain began to descend the narrow stairs, armored boots echoing loudly as they proceeded. They opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and saw a single guard seated at a table along one wall, a deck of playing cards spread across the table as he played a game. In one of the cells was a solitary prisoner, his fine clothes torn and dirty from an obvious struggle. He had a large lump on the side of his head and a black eye. If he had other injuries, they were not immediately visible.

The guard rose from his seat as Lhiannon and Loghain entered, giving both of them a salute. "Commander. Your Grace. You are here to speak to the prisoner, yes?"

Lhiannon nodded. "I am indeed. Give me the key to his cell and leave us. I shall call for you when I am finished speaking to him."

The guard looked at Lhiannon warily, but one look at the heavily armored Loghain set his mind at ease. He turned the key over to Lhiannon and left the room, the other soldier close behind.

As Lhiannon approached the cell to open the door, Loghain put himself between the cell and the exit, drawing his sword. The prisoner looked at Loghain with hate in his eyes, his gaze falling on the sword. Loghain lowered the sword to his side, keeping it ready in case it was needed. "Do not be foolish," he warned the prisoner. Something about the prisoner seemed familiar to him, but he was unable to place it.

Lhiannon opened the cell door, standing in it as the prisoner got to his feet. He was tall; not as tall as Loghain, but not much shorter either. He was more lithely built than Loghain, all lean muscle under his fine clothing.

"You don't look much like a prowler and thief," Lhiannon said, indicating the prisoner's fine, but dirty, clothing. "Those are some rather fine clothes you have."

"And you don't look much like the 'Hero of Ferelden' and vanquisher of all evil," he sneered, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice. "I thought you were supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes."

"No," Lhiannon scoffed, "it was actually ice, and it was shooting out of my hands." She had turned up a palm and called forth an ice ball to demonstrate; she also wanted the prisoner to know that she was ready for him in case he foolishly rushed her. With a wave of her hand, the ice disappeared.

The prisoner clenched his fists gritting his teeth at Lhiannon. "I certainly thought my father's murderer would be more imposing than you are. I'm not impressed."

Lhiannon's eyes narrowed at the prisoner. _His father's murderer?_ "Ah," she heard Loghain say from behind her, drawing the word out for a second. "Now I recognize you, boy. You're Nathaniel Howe."

"That _traitor _was your father?" Lhiannon said, her face wrinkling in disgust.

Nathaniel's lip pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. He pointed around Lhiannon to Loghain. "_My father_ served with the Hero of River Dane—_that man there—_against the Orlesian dogs. You defeated Loghain and he is Teyrn again; my family lost everything for being on the wrong side of the civil war. We are nothing but pariahs now while Loghain still has his titles and honor. And _you_ have my home."

Loghain bristled at Nathaniel's speech. "I _did_ lose everything, boy, including my title and honor. The Commander could have had me executed but conscripted me into the Grey Wardens instead. The Queen made me Teyrn again after the defeat of the Blight. I had to fight to regain my title and honor, such as it is."

"But you still have everything. I have nothing," Nathaniel spat at Loghain. He turned his attention to Lhiannon. "Look, I thought I wanted to kill you. What I really want is some of my family's things. Sentimental items that mean nothing to you but a great deal to me."

"And then what?" Lhiannon asked. "Am I to just let you go? How do I know you weren't in league with your father during the civil war?"

Nathaniel sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. "I've only been back in Ferelden for a month. My father sent me to the Free Marches to be squired. I had heard there was a Blight and a civil war, but I had no idea what was really going on until I arrived. That's when I heard about my father's actions. He was already dead by _your_ hand when I got here."

"You were squired in the Free Marches?" Lhiannon asked, curious. "What were you sent to learn?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "A few things. Hunting. Scouting." He paused, looking at Lhiannon with a murderous glint in his eye. "Poisons."

Lhiannon folded her arms across her chest, tilting her head and studying Nathaniel carefully. "Let's say I give you some of your family's belongings and let you go. What then?" She heard Loghain shuffle slightly behind her and felt his apprehension through the taint.

Nathaniel shrugged again, his hands moving as he did so. "I could leave. I could come back. You might not catch me next time. I could be back with a knife at your throat and have my revenge."

"Perhaps," Lhiannon agreed, unfolding her arms and standing straight. "But I hardly think so." She turned her back to Nathaniel and passed Loghain on her way to the door. Loghain's eyes followed her, then returned to watching Nathaniel warily. Lhiannon opened the door and called for the guard to bring Varel before returning to Loghain's side.

Varel arrived several minutes later and stood next to Loghain, his hand on his weapon. "Have you decided what to do with the prisoner then, Commander?

Lhiannon nodded. "I have, Varel. I invoke the Right of Conscription."

"Absolutely not!" Nathaniel spat, revulsion crossing his face. "Send me to the gallows first."

"You _what?_" Loghain asked incredulously, pointing his sword at Nathaniel. "The boy has said he wanted to kill you."

"I agree, Commander," Varel echoed. "There's no guaranteeing your safety if you release him."

"You want a Grey Warden that wants you dead?" Nathaniel said, shaking his head. "You do have a death wish."

Lhiannon looked at both Varel and Loghain, scoffing as she did so. "As I recall," she said, looking at Loghain with an raised brow, "_you_ wanted to kill _me_ when I conscripted you. Look what becoming a Grey Warden has done for you." She next turned her eyes to Varel. "Some of my closest friends have wanted me dead, Varel. I still live."

"You are far too trusting," Loghain muttered under his breath. "This could be a fatal mistake."

"Perhaps it is," Lhiannon agreed. "But it is my mistake to make." She turned once again to Varel. "Bring the chalice. He takes the Joining now."

Varel shook his head before bowing to Lhiannon. "As you wish, Commander." He turned and mounted the stairs, heavy boots echoing the entire way.

Loghain moved closer to Lhiannon, lowering his head toward her ear without taking his eyes off Nathaniel. "You are certain about this then?" he spoke quietly into her ear.

Lhiannon nodded, confident in her decision. "I am. I believe he can be useful to the Grey Wardens."

Loghain scoffed at her. "Obstinate woman."

"You are rubbing off on me, Loghain," she told him, a smirk crossing her face. Loghain merely scoffed at her before returning his watchful gaze to Nathaniel.

The heavy thumping of boots on the stairs signaled Varel's return to the dungeon. In his hands he held the chalice used for the Joining, the darkspawn blood already mixed with wine. Lhiannon and Loghain grimaced slightly at the smell of corruption coming from the chalice. Varel turned and looked at Nathaniel.

"Nathaniel Howe, step forward."

Nathaniel came out of the cell, uneasiness clearly written on his face. He reached out for the chalice as Varel spoke the words of the Joining. With a heavy sigh, Nathaniel raised the chalice to his lips and drank deeply. Lhiannon watched as his eyes began to roll in his head and his hands loosened their grip on the chalice. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter, spilling a small amount of the contents onto the floor. Nathaniel slowly crumpled into a heap, shaking slightly as he lay on the cold stone. Varel bent over and felt for a pulse in Nathaniel's neck. With a sigh of relief, he turned and looked up at Lhiannon.

"He lives, Commander."

"Good," Lhiannon exclaimed, relief evident in her voice. "Have some of the guards take him to a guest room. They will stand guard until he wakes up. I want to make sure he was just bluffing when he said he would put a knife to my throat."

Loghain caught her gaze and raised an eyebrow at her. Lhiannon grinned and winked at him. "I wasn't born yesterday, love."

* * *

_A/N: With the holidays coming up (and my brother's wedding in December), I may not be able to update as much as I have been. I do have a number of chapters on deck that need minor tweaks, but I promise to put at least one chapter up per week; two if I can swing it._

_I appreciate the time you take to read and review the story. It's great encouragement and many of your comments trigger new ideas or help me expand on storylines. THANK YOU!  
_


	21. The Arlessa and the Wolves

As they threw the last of the darkspawn corpses into the horse drawn wagon, Lhiannon scowled in disgust for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. The day after her arrival at Vigil's Keep kept Lhiannon busy collecting the darkspawn corpses with a number of soldiers; they would haul them outside the fortress to be burned. She was grateful for the busy work, as it kept her mind busy and off the sadness of Mhairi's passing the day before. They burned her body late last night and afterward, Lhiannon returned to her chambers and fell into an exhausted sleep.

While she was working to gather and burn the darkspawn corpses, Captain Garavel and his soldiers were searching the rubble of several buildings for survivors of the assault. A number of people had been missing and a thorough search confirmed that many were indeed dead. Several survivors were found however, and Lhiannon felt her heart lightened when she heard the cheers of the soldiers when they brought survivors out of the wreckage. They were taken to the Vigil, where Anders would administer his healing magic and bind their wounds. Anders had also conscripted Nathaniel as his assistant; Nathaniel's knowledge of herbs from his squiring in the Free Marches had come in handy more than once that day.

Loghain and Varel were walking along the outer walls of the fortress, noting the damage and what needed to be done to repair it. They poked and climbed through the wreckage to see what could be salvaged for repairs. As they spoke with a dwarf near the battered gates of the fortress, Lhiannon led the last cart of corpses toward the entrance. She sensed Loghain's gaze on her back and turned toward him; he held his hand up in greeting and she wearily returned it.

The previous pile of darkspawn corpses was still smoldering when they arrived, the soldiers stationed there working to stay upwind of the foulness. The last of the bodies were thrown onto the pile and Lhiannon motioned for the soldiers to step back. She spoke the words to a fire spell, directing the flames from her hand to the moldering pile. The corpses quickly caught, sending a dark, oily smoke into the late afternoon sky. She knew the stench of burning corruption hung heavy in the air, but being so near the pile numerous times that day had dulled her senses; she was grateful for it. Nodding her thanks to the soldiers staying behind to tend to the pyre, she made her way back to the fortress; 'The Vigil', as Varel had called it. She wanted nothing more than a bath when she returned to her quarters at the Vigil. Her armor was streaked with gore, dirt, and soot; she feared that her skin and hair did not fare much better.

Until her quarters were ready, Lhiannon would sleep in a small guest room on one of the lower levels of the Vigil. Her office and quarters were to be on an upper floor of the fortress; Varel told her that they had belonged to Arl Howe himself. Before she claimed them, however, she wanted them inventoried and cleaned from top to bottom. It was her feeling that Nathaniel should be there as they worked; she wanted to give him the opportunity to claim anything he may consider sentimental. Nathaniel, however, was still feeling the effects of his Joining. She would wait until he was ready, she told him. He responded rather coolly that he would look through his father's chambers the next day and after that, she could do what she wished with the rest.

As the servants gathered water for her bath, she removed her armor and began to clean it, placing each piece on its stand as she finished. The servants arrived as she was placing the last piece on the stand. She thanked them gratefully and began to peel her underclothes and smalls off as soon as they left, grimacing as she compared the filth on her exposed skin to the unmarred skin beneath her smalls. She climbed into the tub, hissing as she lowered herself into the near scalding water but relaxing as the heat began to work the knots out of her aching muscles. She sat back with her eyes closed, finally relaxing for the first time that day. The water began to grow tepid after some time and Lhiannon reluctantly pulled herself out of the tub, giggling at her wrinkled flesh. Dressing in a simple longshirt and trousers, she left her chambers to find her companions, tying her damp hair behind her as she walked the halls of her new home.

She found Loghain in Varel's office, leaning over the desk where they were comparing notes of what needed to be repaired around the Vigil with what they had on hand to do so. Lhiannon knocked on the doorjamb, drawing their attention before entering and settling in a chair across the desk from where the two men stood. Loghain gave her a grin as she sat.

"Well, Varel, how bad is it?" Lhiannon asked.

Varel sighed, sitting heavily in his chair before he began. "There are a number of breaches in the walls, Commander, as well as significant damage to the gates of the fortress. The darkspawn attack was devastating. In essence, we are virtually defenseless."

Loghain settled himself into the chair next to Lhiannon, turning to regard her. "Varel says that we don't have all the necessary supplies on hand to make repairs. I believe this should be our first priority; securing the fortress."

Lhiannon nodded, her gaze landing on both men. "Agreed. We have to also grow our ranks, but defense is also important." She turned her attention back to Varel. "What do we need to get the fortress repaired?"

"I spoke with our stonemason today, Voldrik Glavonak. He needs granite to reinforce the walls and gate; he knows of a source nearby, so thank the Maker for that blessing. He also needs men to help gather the granite and repair the walls. There is one problem though."

Lhiannon raised a brow at him and smirked. "There's always a problem, isn't there?"

Varel scoffed humorously at her, settling back in his chair. "Truer words were never spoken, Commander. The problem is that the coffers of Vigil's Keep are running low. Voldrik says he needs eighty sovereigns to hire the men and procure the supplies to repair the keep."

"Bloody thief," Loghain muttered from beside Lhiannon, whose eyes went wide with Varel's disclosure of the cost. "Eighty sovereigns?" she gasped. "Maker's breath, are we that desperate for help here in Amaranthine?"

"When you are the only stonemason around, you can name whatever price you wish," Varel sighed. "The law of supply and demand."

Loghain rubbed his chin in thought. "I do have some funds with me that I brought from Gwaren. Much of it is in Denerim, but I do have some here with me."

"I also have funds with me," Lhiannon said, twisting a loose lock of her hair among her fingers. Loghain watched her fingers move, mesmerized by their deftness. He found himself hoping her fingers would be twisting through _his_ hair soon and he smothered a grin with his hand. "I have enough to get Voldrik started," she continued, earning raised brows from both men.

"You have eighty sovereigns with you _now_?" Loghain asked.

Lhiannon shrugged her shoulders and nodded. "I'm a saver. I won't have much left afterwards, but if that is what is needed to get the repairs going, then I'll gladly give them to Voldrik."

Varel smiled, leaning forward to put his forearms on his desk. "That is very generous of you, Commander. I will summon Voldrik here in the morning and we can get him started."

Lhiannon looked to both men as she stood. "Then the responsibility of repairs will lie with the two of you. I thank you both." She returned her gaze to Loghain. "I will see you later, yes?"

Loghain nodded. "Of course, Commander."

True to his word, Loghain knocked on Lhiannon's door a short while later after having taken a bath himself. She answered the door in her dressing gown, the front open enough for Loghain to see the creamy flesh of the tops of her breasts. After bolting the door behind him, she welcomed him with a deep, languorous kiss, her hands holding his face to hers before slowly running down his neck to his shoulders. Before long, her dressing gown was sliding off her body to pool on the floor and Loghain's smoldering hands and mouth were roaming her skin with reckless abandonment, plundering her body in his urgent need. The thunderous passion she had awakened in him made him feel young and more alive than he had felt in years. She was the air he breathed, the light in his darkness, the warmth that filled his soul. As she welcomed him inside her body, Loghain found that he was content to burn in the fire she had ignited within him.

* * *

Lhiannon sat at her desk in her office, scowling at the pile of paperwork that seemed to be multiplying like rabbits on its surface. In the two weeks she had been at Vigil's Keep supervising the rebuilding and cleanup efforts, the paperwork never seemed to stop. She had been shuffling papers from one pile to another all day and she was becoming famished. Her office and chambers had finally been cleaned and readied for her. She had asked Nathaniel to go through the rooms and his father's possessions for anything he may want to keep. He had half-heartedly poked through the items there, taking a number of things to his chambers in another part of the Vigil. He was still aloof to Lhiannon, not wanting to engage in any sort of conversation outside of Grey Warden matters; even then, his words were few. Once he had finished going through the belongings, Lhiannon had the rest hauled out of the Vigil, leaving them outside for anyone who wanted them. It only took a day for the belongings to find new homes.

A knock at the door drew Lhiannon's attention away from the paperwork and she found herself grateful for the interruption. "Come in," she called out.

Varel entered the room, his armor gleaming brightly in the light of the wall sconces. "Commander," he began, his voice conveying concern. "I have an urgent matter from the city guard in Amaranthine."

Lhiannon dropped her head into her hand and rolled her eyes at Varel, a smirk playing across her face. "What isn't an urgent matter in this arling?"

Varel returned her smirk. Lhiannon found that his face was not only pleasant, but held a certain boyish charm to it. She found herself instantly fond of her seneschal, knowing instinctively that he would act in the best interests of the arling. Her gut was rarely wrong about these things. "Unfortunately," he began, "it seems that everything is urgent lately. With the vacuum left behind after Arl Howe's death, many problems he brushed under the rug are beginning to show themselves."

"Such as?"

"As you know, there have been smugglers running rampant in Amaranthine with the troubles in the Wending Wood."

Lhiannon sat back in her chair, studying Varel closely. "What is the Bann of Amaranthine doing to help? What's her name again?"

"Bann Esmerelle. I believe she's waiting to see what you do," Varel said, a look of disgust crossing his face. "She was one of Arl Howe's biggest supporters; he lavished many privileges on her. Rumor also has it that she was a lover of his. No doubt she's not lifting a finger to help in Amaranthine, since you were the one to kill her benefactor."

"A minion of Howe's? Wonderful. Sounds like we'll be good friends," Lhiannon groused, the sarcasm clear in her voice.

Varel gave her a small chuckle. "The city guard have been trying to track down where the smugglers' base of operations may be, but they are not having much luck. They would like you to investigate as soon as you can."

Lhiannon nodded. "Of course. I shall take some Wardens with me to Amaranthine at once."

Varel shifted on his feet, crossing his hands behind his back. "You may want to put that off a day or so. The nobles will be here tomorrow to swear fealty to you. We will also have to hold a session of high court as well."

Movement just outside the door caught Lhiannon's attention and she saw Loghain poke his head in but immediately move to leave when he saw Varel there. "Loghain, wait," Lhiannon called out, standing and gesturing him inside her office. "Come in. I will want your advice on the matter that Varel and I were just beginning to discuss."

"Of course," he drawled, entering the room and standing next to Varel, greeting him with a nod. He was dressed in his typical longshirt and trousers had been holding a rag and polish in his hand; Lhiannon surmised that he was going to work on his armor. Loghain was very particular with both his weapons and armor, cleaning, polishing, and sharpening them at every opportunity. That was most likely why his River Dane armor was still in such pristine condition after so many years. Lhiannon moved from behind her desk to the front, sitting on the edge and smoothing her long skirt as she looked at her two most important advisors.

"Varel tells me the nobles will be here tomorrow to swear fealty," Lhiannon told Loghain. He raised his brows and scoffed at her. "The favor currying begins," he remarked dryly.

Lhiannon chuckled and turned her attention to Varel once more. "Anything in particular I should know about them?"

Varel rubbed his chin in thought. "Bann Esmerelle, other than being the Bann of Amaranthine and rumored lover of Arl Howe, is the most powerful noble you will have to contend with. She will fight you tooth and nail on everything, just to oppose you."

"She had been involved with Howe at one time," Loghain said. "He bragged about it on a number of occasions, especially when he was drunk."

"Wonderful. Who else should I be aware of?" Lhiannon asked.

Varel went to the map of Amaranthine that was mounted to the wall. He pointed at an area just off the North Road west of Vigil's Keep. "Lord Eddelbrek owns a great deal of land in the countryside and is well regarded among the farmers in the Bannorn; they looked to him as a voice of reason in the past year. He held no love for Arl Howe. There will be other lords and nobles here also."

"Well then, Varel, please make sure all is ready for them," Lhiannon said, sliding off the edge of her desk. Varel saluted her and left, leaving Loghain and Lhiannon to themselves.

Lhiannon turned to Loghain. "As soon as court is done, we will need to head for Amaranthine to deal with the smugglers there."

He gave Lhiannon a deep scowl; he hated smugglers and criminals almost as much as he hated some of the nobles. "As you wish," he nodded. They heard the dinner bell ringing and Lhiannon began to move off toward the door, a smile lighting upon her face. "I haven't eaten all day. Come, we'll talk at dinner."

Loghain set his polish and rag down on Lhiannon's desk and followed her out the door, pausing as she locked it behind them. She moved quickly down the stairs leading to the lower levels of the Vigil and Loghain thought he could hear her stomach rumbling in anticipation from where he walked behind her.

They entered the dining hall and piled their plates high with roasted meat, potatoes, and bread. They set their plates down at a table and Loghain went off to grab them each a tankard of ale. Not one to stand on ceremony, Lhiannon began to ravenously attack her place.

"Whoa, Lhi. Slow down. I don't want to have to heal you after you choke on your dinner because you were wolfing it down too fast," she heard Anders laugh at her as he passed by with his own plate of food and tankard of ale. He sat down across from Lhiannon, glancing around to see where Loghain may be.

"So, Lhi. I hear you and Loghain are…_friendly_." He took the index finger of one hand and moved it in and out of a circle formed by the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, his eyebrows raised and a smirk playing across his face. Lhiannon's eyes went wide and then narrowed at him. "I wouldn't let Loghain see you do that, Andy. He'd likely snap you in half." She paused, grinning at him. "And I wouldn't stop him."

"What, and ruin the robes I so meticulously cleaned after we ran the darkspawn out of here?" He gestured to an area on the sleeve of his robes. "Do you know how long it took to get the blood out of this?"

Loghain returned with their ale and sat down, giving Anders a curt nod. Anders waited until Loghain looked down at his food before making his finger gesture again. Lhiannon kicked him under the table. Hard. Anders jumped, which brought Loghain's attention to him. He gave Anders an irritated look before returning to his food. As Lhiannon finished giving Anders the evil eye, Nathaniel brought his plate over to the table and sat next to him, quietly beginning to eat.

Lhiannon had noticed that Nathaniel had gravitated toward Anders in the time since he became a Grey Warden. Anders had an easy, laid back personality that seemed to draw people to him. More than once Lhiannon had observed Nathaniel and Anders together in the main hall, with Nathaniel pointing to the paintings of his ancestors and discussing them with Anders. She had even seen Nathaniel smirk at one of Anders' quips. She was glad that he was coming around to someone.

"Well, since all of you are here," Lhiannon began between bites of food. "The nobles are coming tomorrow to swear fealty and for high court. After that, I would like the three of you to join me on a trip to Amaranthine to deal with some smugglers there."

Anders wholeheartedly agreed, excited to finally see some action. Nathaniel gave her little more than an acknowledging grunt. Loghain nodded his approval between bites of meat, since he had already agreed to go. Lhiannon returned to her own meal, doing her best to quell the rumblings of her stomach.

"What do you know of these smugglers?" Nathaniel asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Not much at this point," Lhiannon admitted once she swallowed the mouthful of food she was working on. "Varel said a city guard from Amaranthine came to ask for our help. With the problems in the Wending Wood, Amaranthine has seen an increase in smuggling. The guards aren't having much luck finding leads. They're hoping we can."

"And I take it good Bann Esmerelle isn't lifting a finger to help?" Nathaniel said, taking a drink from his tankard of ale.

"Varel doesn't think so."

"She'll have no love for you, Commander," Nathaniel said, placing his tankard on the table and looking her in the eye. "I remember her well from when I was a child. She is a cold woman."

Loghain scoffed, remembering some of the stories Rendon Howe told, and picked up his own tankard. Nathaniel's eyes went to Loghain's, looking at him accusingly. "Something you want to add, _Your Grace_?" he sneered at Loghain.

"Nothing you would enjoy hearing, boy," Loghain commented over the top of his glass.

Lhiannon raised a hand to quell the rising argument. "Gentlemen, we need not argue amongst ourselves. We will head to Amaranthine once tomorrow's business is finished."

"What other business will there be tomorrow, Lhi?" Anders asked.

"High justice, from what Varel tells me."

"Interesting," Anders cooed. "I've never seen high court like this before. The only so called justice I've seen is when the templars dragged me back to the Circle. That was hardly exciting."

"It grows tedious quickly," Loghain grumbled, finishing the last of his meal.

"Being dragged back to the Circle? Oh, I agree," Anders chuckled. "After the third or fourth time, it just wasn't as much fun as it used to be. I thought they would at least give me credit for trying at some point."

Lhiannon looked at Anders, a small smirk crossing her face. "Still wearing my earring, I see."

Anders reached up, fingering the gold earring hanging from his ear. It was fairly wide, with designs etched into the metal. The designs looked dwarven. Loghain looked up at Anders warily before turning toward Lhiannon with a brow raised. "Your earring?"

"Oh, yes, it was hers. There's quite a story behind how I got it," Anders said, taking a large draw off his tankard of ale.

Lhiannon put her elbows on the table, resting her head in her hands. "Well, are you going to tell them how you received it or shall I?"

Anders waved his hand toward Lhiannon. "By all means, go ahead."

Lhiannon took a sip from her own tankard, setting it down gently before she began. "I had gone on a trip to Orzammar with the senior mage that I was apprenticed under. The proving ground had just been expanded and they needed a basin enchanted to provide water for the fighters. It's a simple enchantment really, and my mentor took me there because she knew of my talents with elemental spells."

Anders nodded emphatically, looking at Loghain and pointing toward Lhiannon. "She really is very good at elemental spells—the best I've ever seen. You should see that juggling trick she does with stones…"

Loghain rolled his eyes at Anders, scoffing and shaking his head. Lhiannon glared at Anders. "Can I continue?"

"Oh," he said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders and holding a hand up. "Sorry."

"Anyway," Lhiannon continued, "the dwarf in charge of the proving ground was very happy with my work and made sure I received a small payment for my enchantment; most of the time, the sovereigns the mages earn go back to the Circle. I was so excited to have made a little money for myself. My mentor and I were in the marketplace when I saw one of the proprietors selling jewelry." She reached up and fingered the two earrings in each of her ears. "Earrings are my weakness."

Anders nudged Loghain with his hand, a sly look on his face. He pointed a finger to his head. "Make sure you keep that one locked away in that head of yours for later."

Loghain simply glared at Anders until the mage turned his gaze back to Lhiannon.

"I found this fantastic pair of dwarven earrings; gold with dwarven runes carved into them. I bought them and immediately put them in, wearing them all the way back to Kinloch Hold.

"We didn't get back to Kinloch Hold until late at night, so I went to bed right away, taking the earrings out and leaving them on the table next to my bed. The next morning, Anders came bounding in to my room asking how the trip to Orzammar went."

"I never went to Orzammar when I fled the tower," Anders chattered to Nathaniel, who rolled his eyes. "Too dour for such a handsome fellow as myself." Lhiannon had to stifle a giggle as Nathaniel rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Anyway, I showed Anders my earrings while I was telling him about the trip. He picked one of them up and was admiring it as I chattered away."

"I told her they looked superb and that she was lucky I didn't have my ears pierced; I would be stealing them in a heartbeat. Before I escaped from the tower again, of course," Anders said, winking at Lhiannon and fingering the earring in his ear.

Lhiannon took another drink of ale as Anders talked, waiting for him to finish before she continued. "After I told him my story, he was telling me that he had been working on elemental spells the day before. Anders' specializes in healing magic, but he's also quite good at the other classes of magic."

"I always teased her about her lack of skill with healing magic," Anders explained. "But where she was lacking in the healing arts, she more than made up for in elemental magic and I _always_ wanted to try and beat her skills there too."

"So, he's holding my earring telling me that he was working on his fire magic the day before and that he's _sure_ he can cast better spells than I could. He set the earring on the floor and told me he could heat it up until it glowed."

Anders winced at the memory. "She looked at me with absolute horror on her face, but I was insistent and before she could stop me, I held out my hand and began to chant the spell."

Lhiannon snorted indignantly. "What he didn't tell me was that though he could chant the spell, he still hadn't mastered _controlling _the spell. Before I knew it, the earring began to glow red-hot and melted into slag on the stone floor. Anders couldn't break the spell so I did the only thing I could think of to break it."

"What did you do?" Nathaniel asked warily. Both he and Loghain saw the grimace that crossed Anders' face.

"She grabbed the other earring, tackled me to the ground, and shoved the post through my earlobe," Anders said, grabbing his ear as if she had just completed the act. "It broke my concentration all right. It hurt like bloody hell too; she never even froze it first so I wouldn't feel the pain."

"You shoved the earring through his ear?" Loghain asked, turning to Lhiannon and raising his brow at her. He looked amused.

"I was mad," Lhiannon admitted sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders. "It was the first thing I thought of. We were still teenagers; rational thinking wasn't really part of our reality then."

"Punching him in the face didn't occur to you?" Nathaniel asked.

Lhiannon grinned at him. "Not at the time. After the fact it did."

"At least she let me keep the earring," Anders said sheepishly, his exaggerated pouting bringing a smile to Lhiannon's face.

With a sigh, Lhiannon wiped her mouth with a napkin and tossed it on her plate. "Well, gentlemen, I do have work I must return to." She turned to Loghain. "Would you care to join me?"

Loghain tossed his napkin on his plate and with a nod to Nathaniel and Anders, rose to join Lhiannon. She turned to bid good night to them and saw Anders nudge Nathaniel with his elbow, making gestures again. Nathaniel snickered along with Anders. Lhiannon whispered a small lightning spell and with a flick of the wrist, shot it at Anders' hands.

"Ow! Hey! That wasn't very nice," Anders groused while Nathaniel continued to snicker beside him.

Loghain turned and gave Lhiannon a puzzled look. "What was that all about?"

Lhiannon shook her head and took Loghain by the hand, leading him out of the dining hall. "Anders was just being childish. Again."

* * *

Lhiannon led Loghain down to the armory, where the dwarven smithy was cleaning up his work area and readying to leave for the day. He saw them come in and came out from behind his workbench with a hearty greeting.

"Commander! I was making ready to leave for the day! I have your order back here in my storage room."

Lhiannon smiled in greeting. "You have it finished already? Varel was right when he said you were an efficient smithy."

The dwarf laughed, his hearty baritone voice echoing through the small storage room. "Oh, aye. Varel and I go back a long ways, Commander." He brought out an armor stand with a gleaming set of white steel armor, dark in color despite its name with silver trim and the Grey Wardens griffon emblazoned on the chest plate. Loghain noticed that the set was made for a woman's shape.

Lhiannon whistled appreciatively when she saw the armor, running a hand down the cool surface. "This is magnificent," she breathed. "It's almost a shame to wear it into battle."

The dwarf had returned to the storeroom and brought out a second set of armor, also white steel and made in the Grey Warden fashion. Loghain regarded it and turned to Lhiannon, who was grinning at him.

"As the Warden Commander, there are certain privileges I enjoy; commissioning armor for my Wardens for instance. I didn't want to use the Orlesian type or their leftovers, so I had the smith here design armor for us. Ferelden armor made with Ferelden steel and Ferelden hands." She indicated the larger set of armor. "This is for my Second."

As Loghain appraised his new armor, Lhiannon turned and settled the bill with the dwarf. The smith had also brought out padded underclothing for the armor and told Lhiannon that if they needed any adjustments, to please let him know. Lhiannon also ordered him to fashion several additional sets of armor for the Grey Wardens and to have his apprentices deliver their armor to their quarters first thing in the morning.

"Where did you find white steel to have the armor commissioned?" Loghain asked her as they left the armory.

"The smithy had some here. He has a small source of the metal nearby."

"Clearly, the smith is talented. I shall miss wearing my River Dane armor every day though."

Lhiannon took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's part of your past. While that is a good thing, we also need to look to the future. We are Grey Wardens and I want us to look like a force to be reckoned with. "

As they walked through the halls of the fortress, Loghain stopped by his office for a few minutes while Lhiannon continued to her quarters. He wanted to straighten up the paperwork on his desk before going to bid goodnight to Lhiannon. As he was filing his paperwork away, a knock on the door drew his attention.

"Enter," he called out, pushing a drawer closed as the door opened and Nathaniel entered. "May I have a word with you, Your Grace?"

Loghain sat at his desk, indicating a chair for Nathaniel. "First off, when I am here, you need not address me by my noble title. I am a Grey Warden, and thus, have no title here. You may address me as either 'Warden' or by my name."

Nathaniel looked at Loghain with both wariness and suspicion. "Tell me of my father's last days."

Loghain sat back in his chair, his cool gaze trained on Nathaniel. "Are you certain you wish to hear this?"

"I'd rather hear it from you than from our illustrious _Commander_," Nathaniel snarled. The thought of his father's murderer running rampant in his arling and home still made Nathaniel's blood seethe with anger and thoughts of retribution race through his mind. Where was the justice for _her_?

Loghain sighed, never taking his gaze from Nathaniel. "He came to Denerim after Cailian's death, offering his services to me while I tried to keep the kingdom together as regent. I delegated certain matters to him while I worked to secure the borders from the Orlesians."

"What of the Commander?" Nathaniel asked. "How did she become involved?"

Loghain shrugged. "I thought the Grey Wardens to be agents of the Orlesians. Most of them were killed at Ostagar, but the Commander and the King survived. I wanted to know what the Orlesians' plans were and I told Rendon to find out. They were captured as they went to your father's estate to rescue the Queen; he suggested taking her there and pinning the kidnapping on Arl Eamon."

"What happened then?"

Loghain paused, lowering his head briefly before returning his stony gaze to Nathaniel. "Your father tortured them to find out what they knew about the Orlesians. They knew nothing, as they weren't acting on the Orlesians' behalf. The Commander and the King escaped. Your father confronted them and died in the subsequent fight."

Nathaniel's face twisted into a snarl; Loghain saw him ball his fists and tense his body as if he were preparing to launch himself across the desk. "_You lie,_" Nathaniel snarled.

Loghain waived a hand in the air. "Believe what you wish, but I assure you, _he did_. And they weren't the only ones. He captured and tortured other nobles; sometimes for information and sometimes just for his own twisted pleasure. He also betrayed and killed most of Teyrn Bryce Cousland's family."

"Impossible," Nathaniel spat, his fists visibly shaking. "Teyrn Bryce was one of his best friends."

"Whom your father killed to gain his land and titles. Being Arl of Amaranthine wasn't enough for him. He declared himself Teyrn of Highever, Arl of Amaranthine, _and_ Arl of Denerim. It would not have surprised me that if he survived, he would have made a move for the crown itself in time."

Nathaniel quickly stood, his chair clattering over behind him. He moved menacingly toward Loghain, who sat calmly at his desk, unperturbed by Nathaniel's murderous look. "I don't believe you. Perhaps it was _you_ and _your_ influence that led my father astray."

Loghain shrugged. "Believe what you wish, boy. I have no reason to lie to you." He paused as Nathaniel turned to leave. "And if you are entertaining thoughts of revenge against the Commander, I would suggest you think again."

Nathaniel turned back to Loghain and snarled at him. "She's just a mage. They die even easier than warriors."

Loghain scoffed and chuckled. "If you think she's just a mage, then by all means, try. Even if you managed to get past _me_ first, you would find her a far more difficult opponent than you ever imagined. She bested me, a high dragon, and an archdemon, not to mention masses of darkspawn." Loghain stood, nonchalantly gesturing at Nathaniel. "But if you think you are formidable enough, then by all means, try. Now if you don't have anything further, get out."

Nathaniel turned and left Loghain's office, conflicted by what he learned. He could not believe his father would stoop to such depravity. He may have been a gruff and abrasive man, but he was no torturer, no schemer. No _murderer_. Nathaniel wished he knew what had happened to Thomas and Delilah. Since they had remained in Ferelden, they would be able to refute the stories Loghain and Lhiannon had told him. Perhaps when they went to Amaranthine, he would try to seek them out, hoping against hope that they survived the Blight. Until then, he had no choice but to perform his duty to the Grey Wardens and to the commanders he barely trusted.

* * *

Lhiannon opened the door for Loghain at his knock, bolting the outer door to her office behind him and leading him into her living quarters. She began to light the wall sconces in her room with a flick of her wrist as Loghain stoked the fire in the fireplace. He sat on a large sofa when he finished, putting his legs up and reclining while he watched her move about the room. As Lhiannon walked by to light the sconces on the other side of the room, he reached up and quickly pulled her down to recline in front of him. She gave a startled gasp and then laughed as his arms wrapped around her waist. She settled her back into his chest and could feel his heartbeat through his shirt.

"Are you ready to face the wolves tomorrow?" he asked, leaning so close that his breath tickled her ear and made her earrings gently tap one another.

"Can one ever be ready for them?" she asked, sighing heavily. "I hope I am."

"Just remember, you must be firm with them. Be also fair, but most certainly firm. You must also remember that sometimes one must be made an example of, if only to discourage similar behavior in the future."

"Or I could exile them," she giggled as he leaned his head forward to nibble on her ear. She squirmed in his arms, the tickling sensation running through her nerves. "You are hardly helping me prepare for tomorrow, Your Grace."

"Am I distracting you? I do apologize," he murmured into her ear, caressing it with his lips to make her giggle madly. It was a sound he could listen to until the Maker called him.

* * *

_A/N: As always, thank you to all you who read, lurk, bookmark, alert, favorite, and review. I appreciate your continued support and encouragement. And thanks to Gene Dark for telling me my private messaging wasn't turned on (in the words of Homer Simpson...DOH!). So send me a message if you feel so inclined!  
_


	22. Oaths and Rumors

Lhiannon was in her office early on the day of oath taking and high court. Loghain had left her chambers not long before, after not only spending the night with her, but also helping her don the Grey Warden armor for the first time. Her previous set of armor, not being made specifically for her, required an amount of fussing to get the pieces to fight just right. Even so, the fit was not perfect and she occasionally had to adjust them. This set, however, was made with her figure in mind; as such, the pieces fit her body almost perfectly, allowing her the movement required for spell casting and the protection she needed as a frequent target of enemies looking to dispatch mages quickly.

"You look impressive," he told her after handing her Spellweaver and watching her slip it into its scabbard. She was very becoming in the dark plated armor with the double griffon signifying her rank emblazoned on the front.

"Impressive enough to frighten the wolves?" she giggled at him. Loghain grinned at her, cupping her chin and kissing her passionately before he left. Lhiannon had offered to help him with his armor before she went to her office, but he scoffed at her.

"I did not fall off a turnip cart yesterday, madam. I can don my own armor," he growled at her, trying to hide the grin that threatened to spread across his face as he left her chambers.

While Lhiannon was handling affairs at court, Loghain would be training with the soldiers and reviewing them for possible Grey Warden candidates. He thought he might be an unwelcome presence at Lhiannon's first session of high court. Given Loghain's recent history and actions during the Blight, his presence would be barely tolerable, at best. At worst, they could accuse Lhiannon of being his mouthpiece and puppet, simply a pretty face giving the orders of the Teyrn, the true master of Amaranthine. Loghain was wise enough in political matters to know that there would be many nobles questioning the decision to name him Teyrn again; no doubt some of them were here in Amaranthine. They would look on any advice he gave openly to Lhiannon with suspicion or contempt. In the end, neither he nor Varel wanted to give the nobles any impression that they were undermining Lhiannon's new authority in Amaranthine. She could not help but agree with them.

A knock on the door brought her attention away from her desk. Varel was there, an anxious look on his face. Lhiannon's guard immediately went up.

"Varel," Lhiannon began, her eyes narrowing at him. "What is it?"

"Commander, I have one of the nobles here asking to see you right away. She said she has an extremely urgent and delicate matter to discuss with you before the others arrive."

"Do you know this person?"

Varel nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. "Yes, Commander. Her name is Ser Tamra. She's a younger noble, relatively new to the whole affair." He paused, his brows furrowing and a look of unease crossing his features. "She claims to have discovered a plot intended to do you harm."

Lhiannon's eyes narrowed. "I see. They've started quickly."

Varel scoffed indignantly. "Indeed. I can bring her in, if you like."

Lhiannon rose from her chair, walking around to the front of her desk. "Yes, please do. Then I'd like you to remain here while I speak to her." Nodding, Varel left and returned a few moments later with a pretty young woman dressed in fine clothing. She looked slightly nervous being in the same room as two heavily armored individuals. Varel motioned her into the office and entered behind her, shutting the door and standing guard in front of it.

"Commander," the young woman began, bowing slightly and nervously fiddling with a small handbag. "I'm Ser Tamra. It is an honor to meet the Hero of Ferelden."

Lhiannon motioned for her to sit at one of the chairs across from her desk before she returned to her own chair. "Varel tells me you have an urgent matter to discuss with me. Something that cannot wait."

Tamra bowed her head, opening the handbag on her lap and drawing out several pieces of parchment. "Yes, Commander. I intercepted these letters within the last couple of days. They are cryptic, but speak of a plot against you."

Lhiannon looked up at Varel, a smirk on her face. "You know, Varel, for once I'd like to go about my business without someone plotting against me."

Varel raised his brows at her. "You seem to attract them, Commander."

"Like moths to a flame, unfortunately." Lhiannon scanned the letters that Tamra handed to her; they were indeed cryptic but they did make it clear that someone wanted to do harm against the Commander of the Grey Wardens. She saw the reference to the "Dark Wolf." It made her blood run cold; that was what she was called by certain unsavory individuals while she was questing to end the Blight. There were references to other people in the letters, whether they were code names for conspirators or targets, she was uncertain. She looked up at Tamra again, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "And you intercepted these?"

"Yes, Commander," Tamra nodded emphatically.

"From where?"

"One of my servants saw them drop from the pocket of a nobleman while walking through the market in Amaranthine. My servant picked them up to return them, but lost the nobleman in the crowd. When she read them, she brought them immediately to me."

Lhiannon sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. "And how am I to know that you are not part of this conspiracy?"

"The right of high justice is yours, Commander," Varel stated from his place near the door. Tamra turned in her chair to regard him. "Death is the punishment for capital offenses such as treachery, Ser Tamra. If you know more than you are telling the Commander, you would do well to confess now."

Tamra turned back toward Lhiannon, staring her directly in the eyes with conviction. She put her fist over her heart. "I swear to you in the sight of the Maker that I am not lying. I speak the truth. My lands are forfeit if I lie, Commander."

"It will be your death as well if you lie," Varel growled at Tamra.

Lhiannon glanced up at Varel, who nodded his head. _He believes her_. "What else do you know of this plot, Tamra?"

Tamra shrugged. "Little else Commander. I am nearly as new to the nobility as you are. I don't have many friends among them. I _do_ know that some are still loyal to Arl Howe."

Lhiannon sat back in her chair, watching Tamra intently for a few moments. She wanted to see if Tamra would start to act nervous or fidget under the silence that she and Varel were putting forward. Tamra looked no more nervous than when she came in and sat in her chair confidently. After a few moments, Lhiannon nodded and stood, tucking the letters into a pouch inside her armor. Tamra likewise stood.

"Thank you, Ser Tamra, for bringing this information to me."

Tamra nodded. "Thank you for seeing me, Commander. Now, I need to hurry back to the inn before the other nobles begin to stir. I don't want to attract any more attention than necessary."

Lhiannon looked at her with concern. "Would you like a guard to accompany you to the inn?"

"No," Tamra quickly said, shaking her head emphatically. "That would attract the kind of attention I do not need. You don't want it either."

Varel moved toward the door and opened it, motioning Tamra out. Lhiannon walked over to Varel and whispered quietly in his ear. "Varel, bring Loghain, Nathaniel, and Anders to my office as soon as you see Tamra out."

Varel nodded, falling into step behind Tamra. Lhiannon listed to Varel's armored footsteps fade down the stairway. She moved to one of the windows, looking at the view of the entire courtyard outside Vigil's Keep and the various businesses and manors within the fortress walls. She crossed her arms over her chest and pondered the letters from Tamra while she waited for the others to arrive. Who were the enemies she had here? What was their motivation? She knew she had made enemies with the death of Arl Howe, but would they move this quickly against her? It seemed as though they were already underway.

It was not long before she heard multiple sets of footsteps on the stairs leading to her office. Varel entered the room followed closely by Loghain, Anders, and Nathaniel. Varel shut the office door and bolted it for good measure. Anders and Nathaniel took the chairs across from Lhiannon's desk. Loghain stood near a corner of her desk while Varel stationed himself near the door. Lhiannon turned from the window and sat in her chair. She noticed that Loghain had donned his new Grey Warden armor; he looked magnificent in it.

"So, Lhi, what's going on?" Anders asked, smoothing his robes as he settled into the chair.

Lhiannon reached into her pouch and brought forth the letters from Tamra, handing them first to Loghain. He opened them and began to read, a scowl crossing his face as he did so.

"Oh, that doesn't look good at all," Anders said, a grimace crossing his face.

"No, it's not," Loghain scowled, handing the letters to Nathaniel. He began to peruse them with a slightly disinterested look on his face.

"A young noblewoman came in this morning asking to see me before the oath taking today. She said she intercepted these letters speaking of a plot against me," Lhiannon explained.

"Already?" Anders asked, taking the letters that Nathaniel handed to him. His nose wrinkled in aversion as he read them. He clucked his tongue and shook his head as he began to peruse the second document.

"She wanted to tell me before the other nobles saw her leave the inn. She just left a few minutes ago."

"There are a number of nobles who were very well off under the rule of Rendon Howe," Varel explained. "Most of them lost a great deal of power and influence when he died. They will certainly bear you no love." Lhiannon noticed a dark scowl briefly cross Nathaniel's face at the mention of his father. It quickly faded, replaced by a dour expression.

"The letters are rather vague," Loghain began, pacing back and forth a few steps. "But I hardly think we should become complacent. I'd like to increase the number of guards in the Vigil today."

"I agree, Commander," Varel said from his place at the door. "I do not think we should take any chances. There is often fire where one sees smoke."

Lhiannon thought about it for a moment, staring at her steepled hands. "No," she said slowly. Loghain whipped his head around to look at her, fire in his icy blue eyes.

"_No_? Are you mad?" he snapped at her while pointing to the letters in Anders' hand. "These may be little more than rumors at this point, but doing nothing would be foolish. You have enemies here," he growled at her, trying to convince her to see it from his perspective. Lhiannon glared up at him, her eyes flashing with fire and her expression stony. Loghain held her gaze for a moment before he looked away, cursing himself a fool as he did so; he was a subordinate now, taking orders from Lhiannon as his Commander. _You would do well to remember that, idiot._

"Hear me," Lhiannon said, holding up a hand toward Loghain. "If we make such an open move, it will only drive the perpetrators further underground. I want to find out who these bastards are before they can start causing trouble in Amaranthine."

"By leaving yourself vulnerable?" Loghain asked indignantly.

"By appearing that all is normal and we suspect nothing," Lhiannon explained.

"There are several things we can do, Warden," Varel spoke up, looking at Loghain as he did so. He began to tick the options off on his fingers. "We can send some soldiers to spy on the nobility."

"Do you think they will be able to find anything?" Nathaniel asked. "Soldiers are hardly inconspicuous."

"Truthfully? No," Varel replied. "Warden Nathaniel has a point."

"We do not have enough soldiers to do a proper investigation anyway," Loghain added. "I only brought a few with me from Gwaren and the local army was decimated during the recent darkspawn attacks. There are not enough to go around."

"So, what other options do we have, Varel?" Lhiannon asked.

"We can 'invite' a member of each noble family to stay here at Vigil's Keep during the investigation," Varel prompted.

"Hostages," Anders said, a grimace crossing his face.

"If they move against you, you can have that family member executed," Varel explained, the look on his face suggesting that the idea did not sit well with him.

Lhiannon shook her head. _That sounds like something Rendon Howe would have done_, she thought. "No, that would just invite more problems from that noble family. All the noble families, for that matter. I won't do that. I need fewer problems, not more."

"Then what else are we to do? Sit back and get the scrying ball out? I was never very good at that." Anders asked.

"We could do nothing," Varel said, a scowl crossing his face as he spoke. "Let them try and spring their trap. I for one do not care for that option."

"What else can we do then?" Lhiannon asked.

Nathaniel sat forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees and hands knitted together in front of him. "Allow me to mingle among the nobles today during the ceremonies," he suggested quietly, staring at his hands intently.

Lhiannon looked at him warily. "Surely some of them will recognize you, Nathaniel; those that opposed your father are apt to avoid you. Many of them likely know you're a Grey Warden now, as well. They won't say anything if they see you lurking."

Nathaniel grinned wickedly, still looking at his hands. "Who says they'll see me?"

Lhiannon sat back in her chair, her brow furrowed for a moment before a slow grin crossed her face. Anders, Varel, and Loghain looked back and forth between the two, looks of confusion on their faces.

"Would either of you care to tell us what you are talking about?" Loghain asked irritably.

"One of the skills I learned in the Free Marches was how to go under stealth," Nathaniel explained, sitting back in his chair and looking at Loghain. "I mastered it, actually. Once I enter stealth, I can slip around the nobles and listen to their conversations."

"But what if they notice you?" Anders asked. "I can't imagine they will be very happy with you spying on them. People being spied upon do tend to get touchy. I should know; the templars spied on me for _years_ at the Circle."

"So long as all I'm doing is moving and listening, they won't. Detection is a risk we'll have to take," Nathaniel admitted. "It's better than sitting back and doing nothing at all."

Lhiannon looked at Nathaniel steadily, thinking about his suggestion. She reached out with her tainted senses and felt his confidence in his plan. She nodded. "Do it."

Nathaniel and Anders stood up to leave as Varel opened the door, commenting that the nobles would most likely be arriving within the hour and that he would be in the audience chamber watching for their arrival. "Nathaniel, hold a moment," Lhiannon called out as they moved toward the door. Nathaniel paused before turning back toward Lhiannon with a stony look on his face.

"You want something, Commander?" he asked flatly.

Lhiannon nodded. "I wanted to thank you for your suggestion just now. It's an excellent idea…"

"Commander," Nathaniel said sharply, holding up his hand and interrupting her. "With all due _respect_, save it. I'm doing my duty as a Grey Warden, not something for you _personally_. I could not care less what happens to you personally."

Lhiannon paused, hearing Loghain's sharp intake of breath from nearby. She held up her hand to Loghain, silently ordering him to keep his place. She heard Loghain's irritated scoff as she looked back at Nathaniel.

"We are _not_ friends, Commander. We will _never_ be friends. You are still my father's murderer. If I saw you on fire in the street, I wouldn't piss on you to put the flames out. Even so, I will do my _duty_ as a Grey Warden."

Lhiannon looked at Nathaniel, nodding slightly. "I suppose I appreciate your honesty Nathaniel. So long as you do your duty, you can feel whatever you wish about me."

Nathaniel glared at Lhiannon for another moment before turning and walking out of her office to join Varel in the audience chamber. Lhiannon gave a slight sigh before turning her attention to Loghain, who lingered nearby. She rose from her chair and glared at him, the fire still smoldering in her eyes. He held up a hand to her before she could speak. "I do apologize for speaking out of turn earlier. I should not have spoken to you in such a manner in front of the others."

"No, you should not have," she agreed sharply. "When we are speaking of Grey Warden matters, _I_ am the Commander."

Loghain paused, his jaw set firmly for a moment before he spoke again. "I am unaccustomed to taking orders," he growled quietly. "It has been a long time since I have done so."

"I need you to remember the chain of command, Loghain," Lhiannon told him sternly. "A man of your experience, or Varel's, could be easily seen as undermining my authority here. We cannot have that now. The last thing we need are whispered rumors of how the Teyrn of Gwaren and Seneschal of Amaranthine are pulling the Arlessa's strings like a puppet."

"I shall do my best to remember that, Commander."

Lhiannon's disapproving glare softened and she grinned at Loghain. "I do value your insights, Loghain. That is why you are my Second. Maybe word them a little differently in front of the others?"

"I am grateful to be your Second, since there were so many eligible Grey Warden candidates to choose from at the time of my appointment," Loghain scoffed, prompting her to roll her eyes at him. "Lhiannon, you truly should have more guards at the ready today," he insisted, concern in his eyes and voice. Lhiannon smiled at him, taking off her gauntlet and brushing his cheek with her hand.

"I would like to, but I don't want them to spring their trap too early. We need to find out who is responsible and deal with them properly. With blades, if need be."

He scoffed at her, a sardonic grin crossing his face. "You are nearly as stubborn as Maric could be," he said quietly, removing his own gauntlet and taking her hand in his.

"More likely as stubborn as you," she scoffed.

"Perhaps," he sighed. "But while you're accepting oaths, I will be with the soldiers patrolling outside the Vigil. I can observe the comings and goings from there." He paused, raising his finger in front of him. "On this, I will brook no argument."

"Very well, have it your way then," Lhiannon scoffed dramatically, giving him a small grin. She took a step back, still holding Loghain's hand as she appraised him in his new Grey Warden armor, a single white griffon on the breastplate. He was an imposing man in his River Dane armor; the dark color of his new armor made him appear more so. "Your armor suits you well. I see you donned it without encountering any difficulties," she said, a smirk spreading across her face.

"I am perfectly capable of such a feat, madam, despite your witty barbs to the contrary."

Lhiannon smiled at him. "One more thing; have the fortress gates shut while this is going on," she suggested. "That way if something does happen, no one leaves the compound."

Loghain nodded, grinning. "An excellent idea." The grin faded from his face as he motioned to the door. "Keep on your guard around the Howe boy. I care not for his attitude toward you."

"He sees me as his father's murderer; I can hardly fault him for his attitude. But it shall be as you say; I'll keep my guard up." Lhiannon raised Loghain's hand to her lips, kissing his calloused fingers. "I have to go. Time to meet the wolves."

"Indeed," Loghain said as he released her hand. He replaced his gauntlet and nodded his head to her. "Good luck, Commander."

* * *

Lhiannon and Loghain parted near the entrance to the audience chamber; he went to join the soldiers and order the Vigil's gates closed. She walked to Varel, who was standing just outside the doors to the audience chamber. She stopped before him and he nodded to her. Lhiannon could hear the murmuring of many voices within the hall, which caused the butterflies in her stomach to increase their fluttering. _Maker, give me the strength to get through this without making a complete ass of myself._

Varel leaned in close to Lhiannon. "Let me know when you want the wolves cleared out," he said in a soft, conspiratorial voice. She grinned at him, which caused Varel to chuckle softly. "I'm sorry, Commander. Did I say that out loud? I meant, let me know when you want the ceremony to end."

Lhiannon straightened her back, lifting her chin and taking a deep breath. "Let's get this over with, Varel."

Varel turned and entered the audience chambers. Lhiannon waited a few seconds before following behind him. "My lords and ladies, the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden and Arlessa of Amaranthine," Varel called as he entered, his resonant voice carrying throughout the hall. Lhiannon strode purposefully into the hall, standing at Varel's side. She watched as the voices fell and heads began to turn and regard her. She felt nervous under all the glares but kept her chin high, hoping to display confidence.

"You shall all step forward and give the Commander your oaths of fealty," Varel called out. "After which we will break before the session of high justice this afternoon." He turned and held a hand out to a slight woman of older middle age. She wore a fine dress and had her dark hair pulled severely back into a swirl of braids that rested at the base of her skull. She wore a golden necklace with a pendant of pounded gold, the image of a great bear within it.

"As is custom, Bann Esmerelle will be the first to give her oath," Varel called out to the assembled masses. Esmerelle stepped forward and bowed to Lhiannon, placing a hand over her heart as she intoned the words of the oath, promising her loyalty to the arling. She then raised her head and smiled at Lhiannon, who noticed the smile never reached Esmerelle's eyes.

"My," she began, giving Lhiannon a once over. "You are so young and fresh to have been given your very own arling. And a mage too; I wonder what the Chantry had to say about that."

Lhiannon held her chin high and met Esmerelle's gaze with her own steely one. "If the Chantry has an issue, they will need to take it up with the King. Amaranthine is my responsibility now and I intend to clean up the messes the former Arl left behind."

Lhiannon watched as a shadow crossed Esmerelle's face at the mention of the former Arl. She had wanted to see just how strongly Esmerelle would react to the mention of Rendon Howe; she suspected Esmerelle would be a rival and the nasty look that was just given to her confirmed it. Esmerelle would certainly bear watching.

As Esmerelle stepped back into the crowd, other nobles came forward and gave their oaths, promising their loyalty to her as Arlessa. After all the oaths were given, Lhiannon began to mingle among her vassals. She chatted lightly with a number of nobles, answering many questions about the Blight, the Circle, and any number of other subjects. She was hoping to both get to know the nobles and possibly glean insight into the rumored conspiracy Tamra had told her about. Lhiannon scanned the room for Tamra and found her standing to the side, admiring books on the bookshelves.

"Commander, may I have a moment of your time?"

Lhiannon turned to regard a large man standing behind her; he was an older gentleman with steel gray hair and leathery skin that spoke of many years laboring in the sun. He was dressed in older clothes, not of the highest quality but meticulously clean. "Lord Eddlebrek, is it?" she asked. He nodded and gave her a bow. "Yes, Commander. A pleasure to speak to you."

"What is it I can do for you?" Lhiannon asked him.

"First off, welcome to Amaranthine. I pray to the Maker that you will set a better example for this arling than Rendon Howe did. He was an absolute tyrant who cared nothing for the farmers; he forgot who it was that kept Amaranthine fed." He grinned at Lhiannon and leaned in closer, speaking softly to her. "I understand you were the one that sent Howe across the Veil."

Lhiannon leaned in and smiled at him, her own voice barely above a whisper. "Well, suffice it to say that I am also glad that Howe is no longer among us. His treachery knew no bounds. But you're not here to tell me of your dislike for the late Rendon Howe." She stood straight again and brought her voice back up to a normal level. "What is it you wish to discuss with me and how can I help?"

"Commander, the countryside is full of darkspawn. They are terrorizing us and destroying our crops. If this continues unchecked, I fear we won't harvest enough food for the arling. Starvation will run rampant; the peasants are already suffering from scarce food in certain areas of the Bannorn. You _must_ send soldiers to defend our lands," Eddlebrek pleaded with her, hands spread in supplication.

"Not again, Eddlebrek," a man not much older than Lhiannon said as he joined the conversation between them. Ser Timothy, if she remembered correctly. "Amaranthine's defenses are the Commander's highest priority. That is more important than some starving peasants who can always be replaced with more."

Lhiannon turned her gaze on Timothy, narrowing her eyes at him. "I am to decide what my highest priority is, Ser Timothy," she said icily. He took a step back and raised his hands in front of him.

"I beg your pardon, Commander," Timothy stammered as he stepped back. "I did not mean to speak out of turn."

Eddlebrek turned to Timothy and scowled. "Yes, you say it's important to protect the city, but who keeps you city dwellers fed? If the situation deteriorates any further in the plains, you will all have empty bellies, and then what will you do? The conveniences of the city will be of little comfort if you are starving."

"There will always be more peasants, Eddlebrek," Timothy scowled, looking at the farmer with thinly veiled contempt.

Lhiannon held up a hand to silence the men, turning to Timothy. "I understand the plight of the city, but at the very least, it has its walls and city guard to help protect it. The countryside has nothing. Without food, we will be hard pressed to do anything else. The remnants of the darkspawn horde, unfortunately, will be a thorn in our side for some time to come." Lhiannon turned to Varel and motioned him over with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, Commander?"

Lhiannon turned to Varel. "Send some soldiers out among the farmers. We must make sure there is enough food for everyone; without it, we will have greater problems on our hands."

Varel bowed. "I will convey your orders to Captain Garavel, Commander." He turned and resumed his place at the front of the audience hall.

Timothy turned to Lhiannon, his face turning red with anger. "And what of the city? You would let us fend for ourselves while the armies are spread out in the countryside?"

"You have your walls and the city guard to protect you. The Grey Wardens can come quickly when called; I assure you, we can handle a vast number of the darkspawn with only a handful of Wardens. If I can spare more soldiers, I will certainly assign some to the city," Lhiannon told him, the ice in her voice plainly evident. Timothy glared at both Lhiannon and Eddlebrek before turning and storming off.

"Thank you, Commander," Eddlebrek said as he bowed his head. Lhiannon turned and walked over to where Varel was stationed at the head of the audience chamber.

"Are you ready for a break, Commander?" Varel asked. "I can clear them out until we hold court this afternoon."

Lhiannon nodded. "Quite ready, Varel."

Varel stepped forward. "Clear the hall!" he shouted, his deep voice carrying to all corners of the chamber. "We are in recess until high court convenes in three hours." Varel began to shepherd the nobles out of the hall while Lhiannon stood at the back, waiting for everyone to leave. Once Varel returned and indicated that they were alone, Lhiannon looked about the room.

"Nathaniel," she called out. "Can you come out now?"

Nathaniel appeared from behind a pillar near Varel, hardly making a sound as he did so. Lhiannon quickly jogged over to them, the metal plates of her armor rustling together as they moved.

"Did you hear anything?" Lhiannon asked him as she came to a halt before him. Nathaniel shook his head. "Not very much, but I know most of them are headed toward the tavern within the walls of the fortress. I'll wait a few minutes, then follow them there."

"What did you hear?" Varel asked.

"Well, Commander, you certainly did not endear yourself to Ser Timothy," Nathaniel explained, his voice cool. "As soon as you told him that no soldiers could be spared for the city at this time, he was immediately at Bann Esmerelle's side, whispering in her ear."

Lhiannon nodded. "Try to stay close to him then and listen to what he has to say. Bann Esmerelle too."

"At least they are headed to the tavern," Varel grinned, giving Nathaniel a sly look. "Alcohol does tend to loosen lips."

"Speaking of such, I should be off to listen to those loosened lips," Nathaniel said, quickly nodding to both Lhiannon and Varel before bounding off through the doors of the Vigil. Lhiannon sighed and rubbed her forehead as she watched the door close behind Nathaniel. Varel heard her sigh and looked at her with a troubled expression. "What is it, Commander?"

"I tire of plots already, Varel." She turned to look at her seneschal, a grin on her face. "I suppose this is what Loghain felt like when King Maric made him Teyrn of Gwaren after the rebellion. I'm not very good at this, I suspect."

Varel smiled at her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You are doing fine, Commander." He suddenly chuckled at her. "I think Warden Loghain finds this very amusing."

"You _think_ he does?" Lhiannon scoffed, laughing at her seneschal. "I know for a _fact_ that he finds this amusing. Insufferable man."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to everyone following along, especially the reviewers...and you know who you are, you saucy little devils! :) Your encouragement and insight mean a lot! PLEASE keep it coming!  
_


	23. Plots in the Shadows

The sounds of many footsteps and voices on the stairs from the Vigil drew Loghain's attention from where he stood with several soldiers near the newly restored fortress gates. He saw the nobles filing out of the Vigil, some heading toward the small tavern and inn within the walls of the fortress; others appeared to be strolling amid the buildings and conversing amongst themselves. He turned and ordered the soldiers to keep the gates closed until he heard otherwise from the Commander. After their crisp salute, he moved toward the stairs to the Vigil at a brisk pace.

Loghain heard Lhiannon's voice coming from the dining hall and followed it to find her there with Varel and Anders. She spotted him come in and waved him over as she put her heaping plate of food down in front of her. As he sat he noticed that instead of ale, she had cider in her tankard. He raised his eyebrow to her and she laughed. "Believe me, I _do_ want ale. Perhaps when the day's ceremonies are over, I'll drink myself into a stupor."

"Yes, and have you falling out of your saddle drunk when we head for Amaranthine?" he scowled at her. Lhiannon saw that he was trying to keep the corner of his mouth from turning up in a grin. "How did the ceremonies go?"

"Well, they all swore loyalty to me as Arlessa of Amaranthine. I'm sure a few of them even meant it," she sighed, taking a draw from her tankard.

"Where is Nathaniel?" Loghain asked, his eyes casting about the dining hall. "Did he hear anything?"

"Nathaniel heard little in the hall, so he followed the nobles to the tavern," Varel explained. "Ale does tend to loosen the lips. He thought he would gain more insight there."

Loghain reached over and plucked a piece of bread off Lhiannon's plate; she raised her brows at him and had to stop herself from jabbing her fork into the back of his hand. She watched as a look of mild amusement briefly crossed his face. "Did you see anything unusual outside?" Lhiannon asked him.

"No. Nothing at all," Loghain replied, popping the piece of bread into his mouth.

Lhiannon glanced around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. When she was satisfied with their privacy, she turned to the men and lowered her voice. "Aside from a brewing rivalry with Bann Esmerelle, I think I have an enemy in Ser Timothy. He was very angry when I ordered soldiers to the countryside to help the farmers."

"Ser Timothy is part owner of a smithy in Amaranthine," Varel said. "I'm sure he was looking forward to pulling in extra sovereigns with the soldiers stationed in the city."

"Why did you order soldiers to the fields, Lhi?" Anders asked.

"The darkspawn are ravaging some of the farmholds. They are destroying crops and corrupting some of the most fertile farmland in Ferelden. It will be hard to conduct business or protect ourselves on an empty stomach, Andy," Lhiannon explained. "We don't need food riots compounding matters."

The sound of armored footsteps rushing into the dining hall drew Lhiannon's attention to the door. Captain Garavel was there with another soldier; when they saw where Lhiannon and the others were sitting, they headed straight for them. She looked toward Loghain; the expression he gave her was guarded as he quickly rose to his feet. As Garavel approached, Lhiannon likewise stood, a feeling of dread settling into her stomach.

"Commander, we need you in the courtyard right away." Garavel sounded slightly out of breath, as if he had been in a great hurry.

"What is it Captain?"

"There has been a murder."

* * *

Captain Garavel led the group to a small alley behind the single tavern within Vigil's Keep. A body was lying on the ground, covered by a large cloth and guarded by several soldiers standing nearby. From what Lhiannon could see, the body was not large; her meal began to sit in an uncomfortable lump in her stomach as she observed it. The cloth had a large bloodstain blooming on it to match the large stain already seeping into the dirt under the body. Loghain stopped the others a short distance away from the body. He then walked toward it, crouching down and studying the ground intently. Lhiannon and Garavel were quickly at his side.

"See here," Loghain said, pointing to marks in the dirt. "Signs of a struggle, perhaps?"

"Yes," Garavel said, nodding to Loghain. He pointed off toward a corner of the tavern. "From the looks of the marks, the victim was grabbed near the street, then dragged here behind the building before being killed."

"There are footprints here; large," Loghain said, peering down into the freshly disturbed dirt. Lhiannon looked at the marks Loghain was pointing at. "There is more than one set; see here? More prints; smaller, with a different sole pattern."

Lhiannon frowned, her sense of unease and dread growing. "More than one perpetrator, then?" She turned to Garavel. "Have you apprehended any suspects?"

Garavel nodded. "Yes, we captured a local noble with two of his men running from this area. They all had blood on them. They are in the dungeons now."

Loghain stood and motioned for the others to come forward. He walked over to the body and crouched down, pulling the cloth away from the head. Ser Tamra's dead eyes stared upward at them. Lhiannon gasped and swore angrily at the sight as Loghain gently replaced the cloth over Tamra's face and stood.

"How did she die?" Anders asked from behind Lhiannon; his stomach was roiling from the sight and smell of all the blood. "I didn't want to get close enough to look."

"She was ran through with a blade," Garavel said.

"It appears that someone did suspect Tamra of warning me about the conspiracy," Lhiannon sighed, rubbing her forehead to try and quell the pounding that had begun there. She turned to Varel. "Have the suspects brought into high court today. Might as well take care of that too." Varel nodded before turning and heading back toward the Vigil.

"Commander," Garavel began, concern in his voice. "I strongly suggest posting additional guards in the Vigil this afternoon when you hold high court. I hardly think they will make a bold move with the other nobles there, but discretion is the better part of valor."

Loghain turned toward Lhiannon, nodding his head. "I agree with the Captain." He looked at Lhiannon with concern. "I urge you to reconsider your earlier decision on soldiers in the Vigil, Commander."

Lhiannon reluctantly nodded at the men. "All right, but be discreet about it. I still want to try and glean what information we can regarding this conspiracy quietly." She turned toward Garavel. "Find her servants at the inn and inform them of the news. See that they get whatever they require to take Tamra's body home."

"As you say, Commander," Garavel said, nodding to her.

Holding up his hand, Loghain added his own addendum. "Hold, Garavel. Have the prisoners brought to the Vigil for high court in chains. We will take no chances with them." Garavel nodded his agreement before turning toward the inn, ordering the soldiers nearby to watch over Tamra's body.

Lhiannon turned and began walking toward the Vigil, Loghain and Anders at her heels. "I think Anders and I should remain within the Vigil during high court today," Loghain began, a firm resolve in his voice that told Lhiannon that arguing with him would be pointless. "Anders should stay within the hall itself. I'll remain nearby, but not within sight of the nobles," Loghain lengthened his strides so that he was walking at Lhiannon's side. "I would keep an eye on you."

Lhiannon nodded her approval. "After what happened here, I would certainly feel better knowing the two of you had my back."

"Loghain, just make sure you are watching Lhi's back and not her back_side_," Anders quipped from just behind them. Loghain whipped his head around and scowled at the mage; if the glare could have inflicted physical damage, Anders would have found himself casting a number of powerful healing spells. Anders held his hands up in front of him under Loghain's withering stare. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

Loghain scoffed irritably as Lhiannon chuckled at Anders. "Andy, you're just inviting trouble."

* * *

"The right of high justice in the Arling of Amaranthine falls to the Warden Commander. She will decide the appropriate punishment or the letter of the law in each case." Varel's deep voice rang through the audience chamber, bringing the assembly's attention to the front of the room. Lhiannon noticed that there were more people squeezed into the hall for this part of the day's ceremonies. They had been buzzing quietly amongst themselves about Tamra's murder, speculating on who could be guilty and why someone would want her dead.

Lhiannon looked about to see where Anders was. She saw him near the back of the hall, acting as if he were perusing the books on the cases or admiring the paintings on the walls. She saw him occasionally glance in her direction. As for Loghain, Lhiannon could feel the taint within him just outside the hall and around the corner, close enough to hear the proceedings without being seen.

Lhiannon had several cases brought before her early on that were quickly resolved. The first involved a shepherd who had stolen two bushels of grain to feed his starving family. Varel told Lhiannon that in this case, stealing from the Crown was punishable by death; the man should hang, Varel recommended. Lhiannon listened to the shepherd's impassioned pleas for mercy and she understood the reasoning behind his theft. He was desperate to feed his starving family by any means necessary, even if it meant breaking the law. She ruled that instead of death by hanging, he would join the army and serve the Crown instead. The shepherd was to bring his family to Vigil's Keep within one month to begin his service.

Another case involved a young soldier, Danella, who deserted her post. She told Lhiannon that her family's lands were under attack from the darkspawn and that she had to go and help protect them. Lhiannon was not happy with Danella's desertion, bitterly chastising her about her responsibility to her fellow soldiers and her oaths of service. When she finished dressing down the young soldier, Lhiannon's tone softened as she told Danella that she did understand why she left. "I have recent experience with the darkspawn; I do know how you feel in that regard," she said, earning a small smile from the soldier. Varel told Lhiannon that the punishment for desertion was death.

"I am not without mercy," Lhiannon said to Danella. "You will spend one year in prison. But you will _work_ while you are in prison. You will be given duties to perform while you are there; I will not have you sit idly in a cell counting the days to your release." Lhiannon motioned for the guards to take the deserter away to begin her sentence immediately.

Varel then called forth two nobles, Lady Liza Packton and Ser Derren, who stepped forward and bowed to Lhiannon. "Lady Liza and Ser Derren have a land dispute that they would have you hear, Commander."

Lhiannon turned to Lady Liza, a ruddy-faced woman with broad shoulders and hips. "What dispute do you bring to me?" Lhiannon asked.

Lady Liza turned and sneered at Ser Derren. "Arl Howe promised me a tract of land for my support of him during the recent civil war. Ser Derren refuses to relinquish his claim to it. I demand what is rightfully mine, Commander."

"That land is mine, Liza," Ser Derren spat at her. "It has been in my family for generations and Howe had no right to take it from me." He turned and pleaded with Lhiannon. "Commander, the only reason Howe tried to take my land is that I wouldn't support him during the civil war. He tried to punish me for my refusal by taking my land."

"Rendon Howe took many liberties during the civil war," Lhiannon began, casting her gaze between both Liza and Derren. "He was an ambitious, power hungry tyrant who bullied those who wouldn't follow him. Though he had the ability to make such a land transfer, his reasons were flawed. Simply transferring assets to retaliate against the lawful owner is not right. I rule that Derren keeps his land."

Lady Liza was incensed. Lhiannon watched as the woman's face turned a deep crimson. "That land was mine by right, Commander! Arl Howe said…"

Lhiannon whipped her head around to face Liza, her gaze hard. Liza gasped and took a small step back. "_I_ am the Arlessa here, Lady Packton, and I would advise you to remember your place. _I _determine the letter of the law here, not Rendon Howe."

"I shall not forget this injustice, _Commander_," Liza spat, whirling about and stomping from the audience chamber. Derren bowed and thanked Lhiannon before leaving.

Lhiannon turned to look out the side entrance to the audience chamber and saw Garavel there. With him were several guards and the three prisoners they apprehended after Ser Tamra's murder. Varel motioned them inside. "The last case of the day involves the murder earlier today of Ser Tamra."

Lhiannon heard the clinking of chains as the three accused murders were brought before her, hands manacled behind them. She heard several gasps and murmurs from the crowd as the prisoners were brought forward. The ringleader of the group, a large noble dressed in fine clothes, looked at Lhiannon sternly.

"What is your name, ser?" Lhiannon asked, looking up into his square face. The man was one of the largest men she had ever seen; he made Loghain look like a scrawny boy. He appeared to be all hard muscle under his fine clothing.

"Ser Temmerly, Commander. My friends call me the Ox."

"You are accused of murdering Ser Tamra today, Temmerly. You and your companions were spotted running away from the murder scene with blood on your clothing," Lhiannon said. "What have you to say about that?"

Temmerly looked at his companions briefly before turning his attention back to Lhiannon. "I have nothing to say, Commander," he said, his voice flat and nearly devoid of emotion.

Lhiannon scowled. She could hear murmurings in the crowd. Those she could hear indicated that they believed Temmerly was guilty and should hang. She held up a hand to quiet the crowd. "Nothing to say at all? What of the blood on your clothing? Care to explain where it came from?"

"Could have gotten into a fight," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Lhiannon moved closer to him, closely examining his clothing and skin as she moved around him. "I don't see any bruises on you. No cuts. Your clothes are hardly mussed, except for the blood on them." She stopped in front of him, glaring up—way up—into his dark eyes. "Come now, Temmerly. That's a bit of a stretch, wouldn't you say?" she asked him, brows raised. Temmerly merely shrugged, saying nothing.

Varel stepped forward, guiding Lhiannon away from the crowd and leaning his head close to hers. He spoke softly into Lhiannon's ear. "To be honest, Commander, we don't have any hard evidence of his guilt. We have no witnesses and no murder weapon."

"He looks hardly mussed, other than the blood on his clothing. He could have received that if he were the one to run Tamra through with the blade." She flicked her eyes toward Temmerly before returning them to Varel. "He probably had his men hold her while he ran her through."

Varel sighed, resigned. "That may be true, Commander, but without witnesses to the actual crime and without a murder weapon, we don't have much to go on. It is vexing, Commander; the Vigil's gates are closed, so we know the murderer is here. We simply don't have solid proof; only conjecture."

"Do you believe he's guilty?"

Varel hardly paused before he answered. "In all likelihood, yes."

Lhiannon turned her head slightly and looked Varel in the eye. "As do I, but you are right. We have no concrete evidence. As much as I hate to do so, we really can't hold him without proof." She paused. "Loghain will probably kill me for doing this."

"We can have him followed, however," Varel suggested. "Perhaps he will give us a lead into who is behind this conspiracy against you."

"Do it then." Lhiannon and Varel turned back to face the crowd. "Ser Temmerly. Because there is no hard evidence against you or your companions in the murder of Ser Tamra, you cannot be found guilty of her murder. You and your companions will be released immediately." She paused, narrowing her eyes at Temmerly and his companions. "I don't want to see you brought before me again."

Temmerly gave her a sneer and a barely perceptible bow as the guards came forward and released him from his manacles. Once he and his companions were freed, they turned and left the audience chamber, the others in attendance giving them a wide berth. Lhiannon watched them leave with a troubled expression on her face before turning to Varel and nodding to him.

Varel stepped forward. "High court is concluded. Clear the hall."

* * *

Lhiannon sat at her desk a short time later, putting signature and seal onto the documents from the day's proceedings. Loghain and Varel were with her, seated in the chairs opposite her desk. Loghain had a deep scowl on his face from the proceedings.

"I do not like that you released Temmerly and his band," Loghain said, a frown running across his face. "You should have held him until we found out who the conspirators were."

"I know, Loghain. I believe the bloody bastard is guilty of Tamra's murder, but we didn't have any hard evidence," Lhiannon explained.

"I believe you made some extra enemies today, Commander," Varel sighed, settling back into his chair and resting his elbows on the arms, his hands crossed on his lap. "You surely upset Lady Liza by ruling in Ser Derren's favor."

"Liza Packton?" Loghain asked, turning toward Varel, who raised an eyebrow at Loghain. "Yes. Do you know her, Warden?"

Loghain nodded. "I met her briefly once. She was with Howe at his estate in Denerim several years ago."

"Another one of Howe's conquests?" Lhiannon asked, raising her head from the paperwork on her desk and grinning at Loghain. He nodded and scoffed. "They were only attracted to his titles and power; they certainly weren't attracted to his charming personality."

"In any case, Lady Liza will not be an ally. You did gain some sympathy from the minor nobles for your decisions regarding the shepherd and deserter," Varel said, stretching his arms above his head before resting them back on the chair. Lhiannon returned her gaze to the paperwork on her desk, setting more signatures and seals. "At least I have some support," she sighed.

A rap on the doorjamb several minutes later brought Lhiannon's attention up from her desk again. Nathaniel stood in the doorway. Loghain rose from his chair and motioned Nathaniel in, moving to stand next to Lhiannon as Nathaniel took the chair he recently vacated. Nathaniel may be performing his duties as a Grey Warden, but Loghain still harbored a deep wariness about him. Until Loghain could be certain of Nathaniel's motives, he would bear watching.

"Nathaniel. What did you find?" Loghain asked expectantly.

"You don't seem to have many friends among the nobility, Commander," Nathaniel began, settling into the chair and bringing one leg up to rest on the opposite knee. "At least, not many that were in the tavern today."

Lhiannon rolled her eyes, snorting indignantly_. I have a knack of making enemies wherever I go, it seems_. "So, what did you hear?"

Nathaniel leaned forward, elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together. "There are a number of nobles who would like to see your head decorating the Vigil's walls, though I think most of them are just full of hot air. One or two, however, are actively planning something."

"Do you know what?" Varel asked.

"Not yet," Nathaniel said, shaking his head. "They are trying to establish a meeting place where they can all go without drawing suspicion. They are also waiting to hear from others in Amaranthine itself and very possibly Denerim."

"Denerim?" Loghain asked, his brows knitting together in a new scowl. "There are conspirators in Denerim?"

"I believe it's possible," Nathaniel said. "They are trying to identify and gather allies. I can tell you that one of the men is attached to Bann Esmerelle's household."

"And what of the Bann herself? Has her name been brought into this?" Loghain asked.

"No, I don't believe she's an active conspirator at this point. It could just be one of her people involved," Nathaniel explained. "That man is going to Denerim within the next few weeks to meet with a contact there."

"He will need to be followed," Loghain said, turning to Lhiannon. "I can have one of my scouts do so."

Lhiannon nodded her agreement. "Yes, we shall do that." She put the final seal on the last bit of paperwork and stacked them neatly in a pile. "We should discuss Amaranthine next. I had hoped to leave today, but it is getting late. We shall leave at dawn tomorrow." She turned to Varel. "Your word is to be mine while we are away. In case any dire emergencies come up in the short time we'll be gone."

Varel nodded. "As you wish, Commander."

"We shall try and root out the smugglers there and get proper trade flowing again. We can also try and listen for any other information on this conspiracy, especially since one of Esmerelle's people is tied to it." Lhiannon stood and stretched, listening to her joints crackle as she moved. "Gentlemen, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. If you don't mind, I'd like to spend the rest of the day relaxing." She sighed heavily. "I'm sure most of the nobles are good people, but the duplicitous ones have given me a headache."

As Nathaniel and Varel stood to leave, Lhiannon could hear Loghain chuckling quietly behind her. _Of course he's enjoying this_, she thought. She followed Nathaniel and Varel to the door and shut it behind them, quietly running the bolt as she did so. She turned to see Loghain smirking at her.

"Enjoying my discomfort again, are we?" she asked, taking a wadded up piece of paper from her desk and throwing it at him.

"Would I do such a thing, madam?" he said, deftly avoiding the projectile.

"Yes, you would. You have set a precedent in the past for doing such a thing."

Lhiannon moved to stand next to him, reaching up and giving him a kiss on the cheek before walking to the door separating her office from her living quarters. She wanted nothing more than to peel her armor off and take a long, languorous bath to relax the tension in her muscles and see her weariness washed away. She began to unbuckle her upper armor as she moved into her living area; Loghain fell into step behind her. She stopped at the armor rack and placed her gauntlets on it. Loghain removed his own and bent down to help unbuckle the armor on her lower body. Within moments, her armor was perched on the rack, the padded underclothes draped over the top. She stood before him in her plain shirt and trousers.

"I need to get the stink of the nobles' perfumes off me," she stated, taking Loghain by his hand. "Would you care to join me?"

His growl of pleasure as he pulled her against his metal flesh gave her all the answer she needed. She crossed the living area of her quarters and continued into her bedchamber, where the Vigil's servants had filled the stone tub with fresh water. Thankfully, they did not need to bring hot water as she could handle that part herself. She breathed a spell of fire and directed it at the water, quickly heating it to temperature. She could hear Loghain fussing with his armor, removing each piece and placing it carefully on her mirrored vanity, as she had no extra armor stand in her room. As the water in the bath began to steam, she felt Loghain's strong hands on her shoulders, his breath tickling her ear as he brought his lips down to nibble on it. The sensation of his lips and breath on her ear broke her concentration and the spell quickly fizzled out. She turned around to face him, her arms winding around his waist.

"The bath water will get cold if you keep this up."

He grinned at her. "You can always reheat it." He lowered his lips to hers, gently taking her lower lip in his teeth to tease her. She giggled and pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth as his tongue demanded entrance. After a moment kissing her, he pulled away, gently pulling the laces of her shirt open as he began to undress her. She likewise helped him undress, running her fingers over his skin, tracing his scars. When they were finished undressing, he slipped into the tub first, guiding her in and setting her down in front of him with her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist under the steaming water and pulled her close. She could feel his length resting against her skin, soft for the moment. She let her head fall back to rest on his upper chest and closed her eyes in contentment, feeling her tense muscles relax and the stresses of the day begin to fade.

After a few moments holding her, Loghain reached to the side of the tub and pulled a ladle and soap off the side. He gently guided Lhiannon forward and began to unwind her hair from its tight braid. She sighed in delight as he ran his fingers through the freed locks before beginning to wet her hair. When that was finished, he began to massage soap into her hair from root to tip, slowly rubbing his fingers along her scalp, eliciting little sighs of pleasure from her. He gently rinsed the soap out of her hair, running his fingers through the locks. He then took a cloth from the stand next to the tub and began to wash her skin with it. The tension in her muscles continued to fade as his hands worked. After a moment massaging the soap onto the silken skin of her back and rinsing it away, she turned around to face him, bringing him forward from the side of the tub and wrapping her legs around him.

Lhiannon took the soap from his hands and worked up some lather, slowly running her soapy hands up and down his chest and around to his back. Her eyes became heavy lidded and distant as she washed and rinsed his skin. Loghain took his turn with the soap, slowly massaging it into her skin, feeling the soft, pliant flesh of her breasts give way under his hands. The hard calluses of his hands moved slowly over her sensitive flesh, causing ripples of pleasure that made her quiver under his touch. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, the ends of her hair floating on the surface of the water. The cloth soon moved across her neck and chest, rinsing away the soap before she felt Loghain's lips on her neck, softly kissing her newly cleaned skin. Lhiannon's hands began to wander lower, under the surface of the water until they found his hardening length; it began to shudder at her touch. She slowly ran one finger along its length, coaxing it further; Loghain's blood began to pound in his ears and throb within his manhood as her finger moved. Her other hand ran up his chest and neck and settled at the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers where she kissed him slowly and languorously. Her tongue slowly danced around his, touching and fleeing, teasing him with its movements.

As her tongue moved with a sinuous grace, Loghain moved one hand down from Lhiannon's chest, slowly tracing a path with his fingertips down to that sensitive spot that always made her cry out for him. He gently parted her folds, searching for the spot; her sharp intake of breath against his lips told him of his victory. As they continued their languorous kissing, he slowly massaged that tiny nub with his fingers, feeling Lhiannon's breath become more ragged and shallow as he did so, her hips jerking at his firm, yet gentle touch.

Oblivious to all but her passion and his need, Loghain moved his hands under Lhiannon's backside, pulling her forward and up, settling her onto his length. She felt herself opening up to him, gripping him snugly as she settled onto his lap. His hands moved up to her face, fingers splayed across her skin as he deeply probed her mouth with his tongue. She began to move her hips, grinding herself against him; her movements started slow but began to quicken as her passion burned and her body demanded its release. Water began to slosh over the sides of the tub and drip onto the floor; the sound like rain pattering on the roof.

Lhiannon's hands tangled into Loghain's long hair at the back of his head, holding his face to hers as she drove her tongue deeper into his mouth, its movements increasing with the intensity of her grinding. Loghain slid his hands off her face and down to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh to aid her movements as she breathed his name into his mouth. As his hands continued to dig into her skin, her grinding became more fevered, her breathing more erratic. His tongue continued to chase hers, brushing her lips and teeth as it explored. Where his breath ended and hers began, he did not know.

Loghain felt himself begin to shudder and he threw his head back, calling out Lhiannon's name as his seed filled her. He felt her hands clutch him tightly an instant later as her spasms gripped his length, her breath coming out in ragged, breathless moans as she reached her peak. She sighed, content, and pulled him close, settling her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms wrap around her, one hand settled into the small of her back and the other at the back of her head, holding her tightly to him as their breathing began to calm.

"I love you," Lhiannon said breathlessly, bringing her head up and kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled at her, placing a kiss in that small place between her eyes. "As I love you. Never doubt it."

Lhiannon noticed that the water level in the tub had gone down. Significantly. She leaned over and looked at the pool of water accumulated around the tub. She brought her gaze back up to a grinning Loghain.

"I do believe we've made a mess."

* * *

_A/N: We haven't had any gratuitous smut for a few chapters. ;) Thought I'd throw some in there before our Wardens start questing again; which they will be doing soon enough.  
_

_Thanks to everyone following along and reviewing. You guys are the best! And by "guys" I mean guys and gals..."you guys" is the Midwestern girl coming out in me. ;)  
_


	24. The Truth Awaits in Amaranthine

Lhiannon woke early the next morning; she sensed it was at least an hour before the sun rose. She opened her eyes and found Loghain facing her, still fast asleep. The fire had faded to low flames during the night, allowing the shadows to creep close. Turning to the table next to the bed, she lit the small lantern there, chasing back some of the shadows as she turned back to Loghain's sleeping form. She watched him sleep for several moments, delighting in how peaceful he looked with his face freed of the scowl he often wore when awake. She found him a ruggedly handsome man to begin with, but he was even more so when not scowling. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking it.

"Time to join the rest of Ferelden, love," she whispered as he began to stir. He slowly opened his eyes and it took a second for him to focus on her. When he did, he gave her a small smile and reached up to brush her cheek. Loghain found that waking up next to her was a pleasure and that the more he did it, the more he wanted to do so. Waking up next to her did not happen every night however and perhaps the time was coming consider a change.

"Yes, Commander. I'm awake," he said, his voice still holding on to the last tendrils of sleep.

She leaned in to give him a gentle kiss and found herself pulled into his embrace. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent as he placed a small kiss on her head. "You make getting out of your bed most difficult," he said, pulling away slightly to look into her dark eyes.

"You're the one who pulled me back down, as I recall," she grinned at him. She gave him one last kiss before bounding out of bed to prepare for the day. Lhiannon and Loghain dressed, helping each other don their armor before leaving her chambers. Anders and Nathaniel were waiting for them in the dining hall, packing a few provisions to take with them on the journey to Amaranthine. After eating a quick breakfast, the four Grey Wardens proceeded down the main steps of the Vigil on their way to the stables to gather their horses.

"Little Nate? Is that you?"

Lhiannon turned to see an elf approaching Nathaniel, a look of wide-eyed wonder on his weathered face. The elf had leathery skin and heavily calloused hands, speaking of years spent laboring outside. Her gaze went to Nathaniel, who looked at the elf briefly for a moment before his face lit up in a bright smile.

"Samuel? By the Maker, it is you!" Nathaniel exclaimed, holding his hand out and clasping the elf's hand in a firm handshake. He pumped it up and down several times, laughing and shaking his head. "I'm glad to see you stayed on at Vigil's Keep, Samuel." Nathaniel turned to the other Grey Wardens. "This is Groundskeeper Samuel. He is the one responsible for the gardens looking so wonderful here."

Samuel waved a hand in front of him, brushing off Nathaniel's compliment with a shy grin. "Ah, anyone could do this." Samuel looked at Nathaniel fondly for a long moment. "I'd know your face anywhere, Little Nate. Though you're not so little now."

Nathaniel released Samuel's hand, his face becoming more serious. "Samuel, do you know how Thomas and Delilah died? I was in the Free Marches for a number of years and had lost contact with them in recent months. I came back to Ferelden once I heard about the Blight."

"Thomas died in the war, Nathaniel," Samuel said before shaking his head slowly. "But Delilah, she's not dead as far as I know. Last I knew, she had married a shopkeeper and was living in Amaranthine. That was before the Blight raged through this part of Ferelden though."

Lhiannon watched as Nathaniel's face brightened. He quickly turned to her, his face more expectant than she had ever seen it before. "Commander, when we go to Amaranthine, can we look for Delilah? She's the only family I have left. I never thought she'd be alive."

With a nod, Lhiannon agreed. "Of course, Nathaniel. That's wonderful news about your sister." Though they would undoubtedly be busy with the Merchant's Guild and investigating the conspiracy against her, how could she say no to such a request? Nathaniel had had a difficult time since returning to Ferelden and perhaps finding his sister, or news of her, would help ease his pain.

"Thank you, Commander," Nathaniel said, surprising Lhiannon with a smile. She was taken aback by the gesture, stunned into silence. Loghain sensed her amazement through the taint and scoffed behind her.

"Nathaniel," Loghain began, moving past Lhiannon to stand near him. "It is time we left for Amaranthine."

"Of course," Nathaniel quickly agreed, nodding toward Samuel and bidding him farewell. Nathaniel felt hope for the first time since returning to Ferelden. He _knew_ that Delilah was alive. He knew it like he knew the sky was blue and grass was green; his heart refused to believe otherwise. After coming to the painful realization that he was alone in Ferelden, it brought joy to his heart to know that his sister was _alive_. With a newfound purpose, he followed his Commander and her Second to the stables, looking forward to being part of a family once again.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when the gates of Amaranthine came into view. As the Grey Wardens approached the city, Lhiannon saw a number of residents mingling outside the gates. Their hushed conversations held hints of urgency and desperation at the deteriorating state of trade within the city. Lhiannon gathered that supplies were becoming scarce and those that were available had exorbitant prices and that they were rising daily.

Lhiannon guided her horse toward the stables outside the gates and dismounted, her other companions following her. As their horses were led away, she looked toward the city gates and saw the city guard searching the packs of people entering and leaving the city.

"At least they're taking precautions," she murmured under her breath. She walked toward the city gate, Loghain, Nathaniel, and Anders following close behind. As they neared the gate, the guard stepped forward and held a hand out. "Stop," he ordered. "I need to search your belongings for smuggled goods."

Loghain's eyes narrowed at the guard. "You do realize that this is the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden? Your Arlessa?"

The guard gave Loghain a nervous look and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, ser, but my orders are clear. Everyone entering the city must be searched for smuggled goods."

Lhiannon raised her hand to Loghain, who looked like he wanted to protest further. He kept his place, but was clearly not happy about it. "We have nothing to hide," she said, holding her pack out to him. "You may search."

The city guard took the bag Lhiannon offered to him, opening it and beginning to rifle through the contents. Lhiannon watched as the guard shifted the contents from side to side, searching for whatever he thought could be smuggled goods.

"You there! What are you doing?"

Lhiannon looked up to see what was obviously the guard's superior approaching, his armored boots thumping heavily on the cobblestones. Lhiannon saw two red spots bloom on his cheeks; he clearly was not pleased with what he was seeing.

The guard with Lhiannon's pack quickly turned to face his commanding officer. "Ser, I'm searching their packs for contraband as ordered." The commander roughly pulled Lhiannon's bag from the guard, closing the flap and handing it back to her. "How can you even suggest that the Commander of the Grey Wardens and Arlessa of Amaranthine could be involved in smuggling?" the commander barked, a withering stare boring into the guard's eyes.

"But, ser…"

"You are dismissed."

The guard gave his commander a salute before moving off to his post near the gate. The commander then turned to Lhiannon, saluting her greeting. "My name is Constable Aidan. I apologize for the search, Commander. With the smuggling running rampant in Amaranthine, we must take every precaution we can."

Lhiannon nodded and held up a hand. "I understand, Constable Aidan. I'm here to help break the smuggling ring and get the trade routes flowing into Amaranthine again. I have brought my fellow Grey Wardens with me: Loghain, Nathaniel, and Anders. What can the Grey Wardens do to help?"

The Constable nodded to each Grey Warden in turn as Lhiannon introduced them. "We know the smugglers have a base of operations here, but we have been unable to find it. We must deal with these smugglers soon. The Merchants Guild has been screaming at Bann Esmerelle and the city guards for help; I fear they may take matters into their own hands soon. The smugglers are charging exorbitant prices for everything. The common citizens are finding it more and more difficult to purchase basic necessities."

"We shall do what we can for you, Constable. We'll also check with the Merchants Guild and see if they have any leads on the smugglers or the problems in the Wending Wood."

Constibale Aidan bowed at Lhiannon and the Grey Wardens. "Thank you for your help, Warden Commander. I wish you better luck than we had."

Lhiannon turned to her companions. "Let's start walking."

* * *

The Grey Wardens began to walk the streets of Amaranthine, starting with the market district. They wandered through the various stalls and markets, looking at the exorbitant prices of basic provisions and trying to see who may be acting suspiciously as they approached. Lhiannon and Loghain were wearing their Grey Warden armor, making it clear to everyone just who they were. They received a number of curious looks, but for the most part they were left to their own business.

Lhiannon had been at a grocer's stall perusing through his fruit offerings when she heard Nathaniel's quiet voice in her ear. "Commander, I believe I have noticed someone."

Lhiannon kept her gaze on the fruit, picking up pieces and inspecting them as if she were interested in buying them. "What makes you suspicious of him?"

"He has been shadowing us for several minutes, keeping a close eye on you and Loghain. When you move, he moves."

Lhiannon put the fruit down and began to stroll through the market as if she were browsing. She looked up out of the corner of her eye and spotted a man that she thought could be the one Nathaniel spoke of. "Is that him?"

"Yes."

"Keep an eye on him. Try to let Loghain and Anders know too. While you do that, I'm going to find the head of the Merchants Guild and see what they know."

Nathaniel quietly moved off, moving through the crowd toward Loghain, who was without doubt perusing the armor shops. Lhiannon moved through the marketplace, watching both the suspicious man as he moved ahead of her and letting her eye wander over the various stalls. After several minutes of walking, she found the building that housed the Merchants Guild in Amaranthine. Outside the guild, manning a stall overflowing with fabrics and clothing, was a dark haired man not much older than Lhiannon herself. She approached the stall, looking at the various arrays of fabrics as she did so. She pulled one of her gauntlets off to feel the various textures of the fabrics, keeping up the appearance of an interested patron. There was a large pile of fabrics in front of her, blocking most of her body off from the proprietor; he would not be able to see the griffons on her breastplate from his vantage point.

"Good day, my lady," the gentleman said, moving toward Lhiannon from the back of the stall. When he got closer, he gasped at the sight of the griffons emblazoned on Lhiannon's armor. "By the Maker, you're a Grey Warden!"

"I am at that. I am Warden Commander Lhiannon Amell. You are Mervis, yes?"

The man nodded. "Yes, Commander. I'm glad to see you. I thought perhaps the Grey Wardens did not receive my message."

"I apologize for not being able to come sooner. We came to investigate the smugglers here in Amaranthine and do what we can do to get proper trade flowing again. I understand the smugglers are here because the guild is having difficulty with the caravans, yes?"

Mervis nodded quickly. "Yes, Commander. Our caravans are being attacked and burned once they enter the Wending Wood. No one has survived and no new goods are arriving. With the caravans being destroyed, the smugglers have found Amaranthine an easy target and moved in."

Lhiannon's brows knitted together in thought. "Do you think the darkspawn are behind the attacks?"

"I honestly don't know, Commander," Mervis sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Communication between Amaranthine and the smaller villages in the Wood has been difficult. What we do know is that what bodies are found are torn limb from limb, the pieces scattered all over." Mervis leaned in closer, casting his eyes about to make sure he could not be overheard. "People are saying that monsters are lurking in the darkness and preying on anyone passing by."

"Monsters, eh? That does sound like darkspawn." She grinned at Mervis. "Fortunately for your guild, I happen to have a great deal of experience with darkspawn."

Anders appeared at Lhiannon's side, putting a hand on her elbow and leaning close to speak softly into her ear. "Nate says the target is moving. We need to follow him."

Lhiannon nodded at Anders and then turned to Mervis. "I must go, Mervis, but be assured that the Grey Wardens will help you." She heard him thank her as she followed Anders into the crowd. The two mages wandered through the marketplace, heading toward the far side of Amaranthine. They could see Nathaniel a number of paces ahead, his eyes focused on his target. Lhiannon had not seen Loghain for some time and cast her Grey Warden senses out in search of him. She felt his presence back near the city gates. It would be just like him to watch the exit.

The target was leading them through the city taking a circuitous route. Lhiannon was beginning to get impatient. She had hoped something would have turned up by now regarding the smugglers den. Anders put a hand on her arm to stop her forward progress. She looked up at him and he gestured forward with his chin, keeping quiet. Lhiannon turned and saw that the smuggler had led them off toward a quiet corner of Amaranthine near a corner of the city walls. He and several other men had flanked Nathaniel and were closing in. If they had any doubts about it before, it was clear now that the smugglers strongly suspected the Grey Wardens were in Amaranthine looking for them

"Anders, go find Loghain. I'll help Nathaniel."

Anders turned and hurried off toward the gates, his alarm surging through the taint in warning. Lhiannon crept closer to where Nathaniel was surrounded by several brutish looking men. As she moved closer, she could hear their angry voices. One of the thugs suddenly made a move toward Nathaniel. With a movement so fast Lhiannon could hardly register it, Nathaniel had pulled his sword and dagger and sliced through the light armor of the attacking thug, carving a deep wound in his stomach. Blood poured from the wound and the thug screamed in agony, clutching his stomach as he fell to the ground.

Lhiannon rushed forward, drawing her sword and swinging it at the nearest thug, connecting with his arm and severing it at the elbow. The thug slumped to the ground, holding the stump as the blood poured out. She had to quickly duck out of the way as another thug with a large war hammer swung at her, the hammer barely missing her chest. As the thug brought up the hammer for another swing, she breathed a spell at him, holding him in a vice that lifted him off the ground. He grimaced in pain, but was unable to move. Lhiannon quickly breathed a spell of ice at him, watching as his skin turned white and cracked, sending tendrils of blood down his skin.

A blow from behind knocked Lhiannon to the ground, shattering her spell and allowing the brute with the war hammer to regain his feet. She quickly turned onto her back and had to roll away from the point of a sword that was driven down at her by a new attacker. The sword scraped along the armor covering her arm, sending a shower of sparks to the ground. She quickly tried to scamper away, breathing another spell as the sword-wielding thug bore down on her. Suddenly, an arrow appeared through the neck of the thug looming above her. He dropped his sword, clutching at the arrow and gurgling as he sank to the ground. A second arrow abruptly appeared in the arm of the thug with the war hammer. He cursed, dropping his hammer and trying to pull the arrow from his flesh.

Lhiannon finally got to her feet and looked up to see Loghain and Anders approaching at a dead run. Lhiannon saw that Loghain had pulled his bow and was quickly firing arrows at the thugs around them. She turned to the thug near her and ran her sword through him, saving him the trouble of pulling the arrow from his arm. Yanking her sword from the thug's body, she turned to see Nathaniel chasing the original target again; he was headed toward the city gates at a dead run. Loghain also saw Nathaniel begin to give chase and exchanged his bow for his sword.

"Come on!" she shouted at Loghain and Anders, turning to follow Nathaniel as he raced for the gates. They ran through the streets and alleyways just outside the city walls, occasionally having to dispatch thugs that came from the darkened recesses where they laid in wait for the Grey Wardens. They finally caught up with Nathaniel at an abandoned shack; he was fighting hand to hand with another thug. Anders breathed a spell of lightning and shot it at the thug, knocking him off his feet as Nathaniel ran him through. Sheathing his weapons, Nathaniel quickly searched the man's pockets and found a key.

Lhiannon approached the fallen man, breathing heavily and sweat running down her face. "Is this the one you've been following, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Yes. He ran here and was trying to get inside when I caught up with him. There has to be something here." Nathaniel reached into a small pouch on his belt and drew out a set of lock picks and set to work on the door. With a tiny click, the tumblers fell away and Nathaniel slowly opened the door. Loghain came forward to take the point, sword and shield drawn and carefully led the party inside. It was a one-room shack, completely empty of furniture or other belongings. Standing out in stark contrast was a trap door set into the floor in one corner. A path in the dusty room led from the doorway they were standing in directly to the trapdoor.

Loghain made to approach the door, but Nathaniel put a hand on his forearm to stop him. "Loghain, if I may. There could be a trap here. Let me investigate first."

Loghain nodded, moving back to give Nathaniel room to work. Anders called forward a small ball of flame to serve as a light. After several minutes of intense searching, Nathaniel declared the door trap free. He pulled the key that he took from the dead thug from his pouch and inserted into the lock. The key turned easily and Nathaniel pulled the door open.

"Shall we?" he asked.

* * *

Loghain took the point once again as they slowly crept down the stairs, weapons at the ready. As they descended further downward, they began to hear several voices. They were talking about shipments coming in to Amaranthine and what prices should be charged. One of them even laughed and said he could make enough money on this next shipment to buy a noble title from the new Arlessa. Lhiannon heard herself snarling silently at the thought.

They had only a few steps to go before reaching the bottom when a smuggler came around the corner and began to climb them. He looked up at the heavily armored Loghain, his jaw dropping in surprise. Before the smuggler could shout in warning, Anders had breathed a paralysis spell, freezing the man in place. Loghain knocked the smuggler unconscious with one of his gauntlets, the sound loud in the small space. They heard a shout of warning from beyond the stairs.

"So much for sneaking in," Lhiannon murmured as they quickly descended the remaining stairs and burst out into the chamber. The smugglers looked up, weapons drawn, at the four Grey Wardens before them.

"So you're the ones causing all the trouble in Amaranthine," the leader of the smugglers said. "I heard the Grey Wardens were here to put an end to the smuggling. I suppose I should feel honored that the Arlessa herself came all this way to try." He sighed, shaking his head in mock sadness and clucking his tongue. "It will be your end, I'm afraid." He pulled his weapon and charged.

The smugglers, in their lighter armor, were no match for the heavily armored Lhiannon and Loghain. Their swords easily carved through the ranks of the smugglers. The smugglers were likewise no match for Anders' spells or the flashing blades Nathaniel wielded with deadly precision. Within minutes, the smugglers lay dead around them and the smell of spilled blood lingered heavily in the air. There were few injuries among the Grey Wardens, mostly deep cuts and bruises. Anders and Lhiannon cast healing spells on the group, causing most of the wounds to heal completely within moments.

There was an area of the cavern up a small set of stairs where the smugglers kept their records. Lhiannon quickly bounded up the stairs and found several books showing receipts of smuggled goods and who was selling them. Most of the items on the list were fairly innocuous, foodstuffs and other necessities. One list, however, made Lhiannon nervous.

"Loghain, come here a moment," she called out, her brow knitted together. Loghain quickly moved up the stairs and to her side, looking at her face and seeing the concern there.

"What is it?"

"Someone is smuggling weapons into the arling," she said with concern, pointing to an entry on the page before them. "And look here. There are references to the "Dark Wolf".

Loghain's scowl became even more pronounced. "That's you."

"This could be tied to the conspiracy. Look at the dates; they're from just days ago."

"This book comes with us then," Loghain said, putting a piece of paper in the book to mark the page with the Dark Wolf reference. "We can study it when we return to the Vigil."

They found a second exit from the smugglers' base, this one leading to a tavern in Amaranthine. They could hear the buzzing of patrons' voices and the shouts of food and beverage orders through the door. Not wanting to attract unwanted attention from within the tavern, Lhiannon breathed a spell of fire into the lock from inside the tunnel, melting the mechanism and making the door all but unusable. It would suffice until they could inform the Constable of its existence. They began to backtrack through the cavern and exited through the trapdoor into the abandoned shack.

Constable Aidan was delighted to hear that the Grey Wardens had found the smugglers' base of operations and brought them to a final, permanent justice. He sent a number of guards to the abandoned house to do more investigating and sent a group to watch the tavern in case other smugglers appeared or tried to restart operations. As the day grew late and the sun rapidly approached the horizon, the Grey Wardens decided to remain in Amaranthine for the night and head back to Vigil's Keep in the morning. They reentered the city, making their way to a small inn near the market district run by the Merchant's Guild.

As they walked down the street, Nathaniel suddenly stopped short at the sight of a young woman outside a small home near the inn. "Delilah?" Nathaniel said expectantly, carefully studying the young woman. She turned and her eyes went wide with recognition.

"Nathaniel!" she exclaimed, opening her arms and pulling him into a tight embrace. "I thought the worst had happened when I had not heard from you."

Nathaniel excitedly turned to the other Grey Wardens. "This is my sister Delilah." Lhiannon nodded her head to the young woman in greeting. Nathaniel turned back toward Delilah, looking at the plain clothes she wore and the simple home she stood near. "Delilah, what has happened? I know times are hard but you deserve better than these simple clothes and small home. Come back with me to Vigil's Keep. We'll find you a home suitable for your station."

With a laugh, Delilah placed her hand on Nathaniel's cheek. "You misunderstand, Nathaniel. I chose to marry Albert and live this way; he's a good man who works very hard. He is the love of my life and I would choose no other way to live. I was fortunate to escape from Father's evil ambitions."

A dark cloud crossed Nathaniel's face and Lhiannon could sense his confusion through the taint. "Father's evil ambitions? Aren't you blowing things out of proportion just a bit?"

Delilah shook her head slowly, a look of both sadness and resolution crossing her face. "Nathaniel, I know you worshipped Father since you were a young boy, but in these last few years, something changed him." Lhiannon heard Delilah sigh heavily and take Nathaniel's hands into her own. "You weren't here to see the things he did."

Nathaniel yanked one of his hands from Delilah's, jerking his thumb toward Loghain. "_He_ was the one that led Father astray, Delilah. Father was a good man…"

Lhiannon sensed Loghain stiffen slightly as he stood beside her, but he made no move to leave or refute Nathaniel's allegations. Delilah glanced at Loghain before returning her look to Nathaniel. "No, Nathaniel. It was _Father_ who destroyed our family, not the Teyrn. You weren't here and didn't see the things he did. He was a monster at the end. Father _deserved_ to die for what he did."

Stunned, Nathaniel's gaze fell to the ground. He balled his fists as he stared intently at the ground. "I don't believe you, Delilah. I _can't_ believe you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Their father may have been an ambitious man, but he was no monster. Delilah had to be mistaken. There had to be a rational explaination.

"Come, Nathaniel, and visit with me for a bit," Delilah said, placing a finger under his chin and lifting it to meet her gaze. "I shall tell you about it. Then you can decide what to believe."

Nathaniel turned to Lhiannon, sighing heavily as he did so. "Would you mind, Commander?"

"Of course not, Nathaniel; take your time. Come to the inn when you are ready; we shall be there." Lhiannon turned to Delilah. "It was a pleasure to meet you. You are welcome at Vigil's Keep whenever you like." Delilah thanked Lhiannon as she took Nathaniel's hand and led him toward the door. Lhiannon nodded to Nathaniel, watching as he and Delilah entered her small home, the door closing softly behind them.

Lhiannon turned and walked to the small inn nearby, Loghain and Anders a step behind her. She procured rooms for the Grey Wardens, heading to her room to remove her armor and clean up a bit before supper.

* * *

Lhiannon heard Nathaniel's voice as she returned to the common area from her room at the inn a short while later. Nathaniel had taken a seat at the same table as Loghain, picking through his dinner as they spoke amongst themselves; Lhiannon heard the name Rendon several times as she gathered her own plate of food. Since Loghain and Rendon Howe had been acquaintances, Nathaniel was likely trying to obtain another perspective on the last years of his father's life. Loghain saw that she was finished gathering her supper and waved her over to the table.

"He really slaughtered the Couslands?" Nathaniel asked, disbelief still coloring his words as Lhiannon slid into the chair next to Loghain. "It's still so hard to believe. I played with Fergus Cousland as a child. My father and Teyrn Bryce were good friends."

Loghain nodded, a look of disgust crossing his face. "That business was largely Rendon's affair. He had been taking far too many liberties acting in my name during the civil war. I wanted him to talk to Bryce, make him see reason, not slaughter the entire household to satisfy his own greedy ambitions." Loghain paused, raising his head from his plate to look Nathaniel directly in the eye. "Your father was a fool," Loghain said quietly.

Nathaniel nodded sadly, looking down toward his plate, shifting the food from side to side with his fork. He looked up at Lhiannon and her heart nearly broke at the pain she saw in his eyes and felt through the taint. "Commander, I thought my father had his reasons for what he did, that it was _war_. He was never like that before I left for the Free Marches." He shook his head sadly and Lhiannon could see his eyes begin to shine. "How could he have changed so much? I feel like a fool. I apologize, Commander."

"It isn't your fault, Nathaniel," Lhiannon said quietly. She watched as Loghain reached over and placed a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, looking somewhat uncomfortable as he did so. "You should not suffer the sins of your father. You have been a good Warden, Nathaniel." Nathaniel nodded his thanks, then picked up his plate and moved off to sit by himself for a time.

Lhiannon turned to look at Loghain, an approving smile on her face. "That was quite inspirational, Loghain," she said. "I'm impressed."

Loghain scoffed at her, but she heard the humor hidden behind it. "Shut up."

* * *

Vigil's Keep was as they left it a couple of days before. The Grey Wardens were out in the field, dispatching darkspawn when they received reports of activity in the area. The smiths were busy making new armor for the soldiers and Wardens. Repairs to the fortress were progressing smoothly. As they entered the Vigil, Nathaniel and Anders went off to their quarters, while Lhiannon and Loghain proceeded to the audience chamber to find Varel. He greeted them with a salute and a handshake as they entered the chamber.

"Commander. Warden, welcome back. I trust things went well in Amaranthine?"

Lhiannon nodded. "Indeed. Mistress Woolsey will be happy to know the smugglers have been dealt with. I have also spoken to the Merchants Guild about their issues. There seem to be problems with caravans traveling through the Wending Wood, so that is our next destination."

"That is good news Commander." Varel reached into his pack and brought out two parchments, handing them to Lhiannon. "These arrived for you yesterday. A messenger from Denerim was passing through."

"Denerim?" Lhiannon asked, turning the parchments over in her hand. Once had the royal seal of Calenhad on it. The other had Queen Anora's personal seal. "Interesting." She turned and showed the letters to Loghain. He looked at the seals and raised his eyebrows.

"Varel, we also found another piece of what could be evidence in the conspiracy against me," Lhiannon said, watching as a scowl crossed his face.

"What sort of evidence, Commander?"

"Weapons smuggling," Loghain said grimly.

A look of disbelief crossed Varel's face. "Someone is smuggling weapons into the arling?"

"Yes," Lhiannon nodded slowly. "We found a ledger detailing shipments and dates. The dates are recent. They also refer to the "Dark Wolf". That was a name I was referred to by some unsavory types during my ordeal with the archdemon."

"Do you know where they are coming from?" Varel asked.

"No, but we brought the ledger back to study. Hopefully we can find a clue there," she explained. "For now, though, I will be in my office. Let me know if you need anything, Varel."

"As you wish, Commander."

Lhiannon and Loghain turned and left the audience chamber. As they left, Lhiannon asked one of the Vigil's servants to bring a meal to her chambers for herself and Loghain. Lhiannon was sure that whatever was in the letters from Denerim, Loghain would want to know about it.

* * *

_A/N: To Arsinoe: all I could think about while editing the part about Rendon Howe and his depravity was your conspiracy theory about his mages. I'm right there with you! Who REALLY holds the leash? __;)_

_In case anyone is interested, I think I have the makings of a sequel in the works. I have a preliminary storyline right now so we'll have to see what shakes out here first.  
_

_As always, thanks to everyone following along and reviewing, especially icey, Shakespira, Arsinoe, and Gene...I know you'll always chime in and this newbie really appreciates it!  
_


	25. Menace of the Wood

The servants arrived at Lhiannon's chambers shortly after she and Loghain settled in, several large plates of food and a carafe of ale with them. Lhiannon and Loghain had both removed their armor, sitting at her table in typical longshirts and leather trousers. He picked up the carafe and began to pour ale into their tankards as Lhiannon picked up the parchment with Calenhad's seal on it. Breaking the seal, she began to read the contents. Loghain watched as her brows shot up in what appeared to be wry amusement.

"Alistair and Anora are summoning all the nobles to Denerim for court in three weeks from the date of this letter. That was several days ago," she said, handing the parchment to Loghain. He rolled his eyes as a sigh of exasperation escaped his lips. "A necessary evil of the nobility," he growled to her, taking the offered parchment and quickly perusing it. Court, especially high court in Denerim, was perhaps his least favorite duty as a member of the nobility. In the brief time he traveled with Lhiannon as simply a Grey Warden and not a Teyrn, he found himself looking forward to a life without the obligations of court. Fate, of course, saw fit to deny him that small bit of respite.

Lhiannon looked at him, a look of curiosity and excitement on her face. "I've never been to a royal court before. What's it like?"

Loghain sighed, not understanding her childlike enthusiasm for such a tiresome affair. "It's a lot of favor mongering, to be honest. Some work does get done; new oaths are taken, new laws passed, announcements and such. But for the most part, it's favor mongering." Loghain scowled, his mind running back over the previous royal courts he had to attend. The very first court of Maric's that he had attended in Gwaren saw him run Bann Donall through with his sword for suggesting the gathered nobles take Maric to the usurper Meghren in an effort to save their pathetic, traitorous hides. Most sessions of high court were not so dramatic as that, but were still in many ways tiresome.

"After my wife died, I went to court and every noble in Ferelden was trying to convince me to marry his or her daughter. Or every widow was trying to convince me to marry _her_."

Lhiannon covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Loghain scoffed and rolled his eyes at her. "This is rather amusing to you, is it not? Insolent child. Maker help me."

"I just keep picturing noblewomen trying to fawn all over you," Lhiannon giggled.

Loghain took a drink of ale, snorting as he set the tankard back on the table. "They were insipid and shallow, concerned more with their salons and what clothing was in fashion than in anything practical," he growled irritably.

"Then what about me?" Lhiannon asked, a grin on her face. "How did I, a simple mage, succeed where all those noblewomen failed?"

Loghain's eyes locked onto hers and she could feel them boring into her once more, making her heart skip a beat as his intense stare held her enthralled. "You are neither insipid nor shallow. You are strong and beautiful. People are drawn to you, implicitly trusting you. You reminded me much of Maric when we first met."

Lhiannon was surprised. "King Maric? How so?"

Loghain nodded. "I told you once before that Maric could inspire such devotion in people that they would lay down their lives for him. You also possess that same quality."

Lhiannon suddenly found she had a lump in her throat. "I never knew that."

Loghain rose from his chair and came to hers, kneeling down before her and placing a hand on her knee. "The decisions I have made led to you; as such, I would not change them." Lhiannon leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Loghain's neck, burying her head in the hollow between his neck and shoulder as his arms wound about her waist. He lowered his face to her head, breathing in the scent of her hair; he could still smell the soap she used to clean it that morning and the freshness of the air that had infused it on their return journey to Vigil's Keep. He closed his eyes in contentment; this is where he wanted to be.

Lhiannon pulled away from his embrace after a moment and he could see the tears in her eyes. Loghain was confused for an instant, until he saw her smile and felt the warmth flowing through the taint in their blood. Her tears were those of happiness. Loghain scoffed to himself; he could never understand why women cried when they were happy. "I suppose we should read the letter from Anora," she said, brushing his cheek with her fingers.

Loghain rose to his feet and went back to his chair, picking up the scroll with Anora's personal seal on it. Lhiannon reached for a plate and began to fill it with food, her heart seemingly swollen to twice its size in her chest. Loghain broke the seal and read the letter, his brows lifting as he read. "Anora and Alistair would like us to arrive a day or so before court begins, if we can. They want to speak with us privately before the nobles arrive and the formalities begin." He paused, considering. _What could Anora be up to?_

Lhiannon sighed. "Is the life of a noble always spent on the road? I've been Arlessa for only a short time and it seems like I always have to go somewhere. It would be nice to sleep in my own bed for more than a couple of days in a row."

Loghain picked up a plate of his own, filling it with food. He snorted at Lhiannon. "Get used to it."

* * *

Varel sat in a chair across the desk from Lhiannon the following morning, scowling at the ledger the Grey Wardens had brought back from the smugglers' den in Amaranthine. "I do not like knowing that weapons are being smuggled into the arling. These aren't poor grade weapons either; many of these appear to be enchanted."

"Enchanted weapons can inflict a great deal of damage; as such, they are hardly inexpensive. Which tells me that someone with deep pockets could be involved," Lhiannon said, resting her elbows on the desk and propping her chin in her hands. She scowled as she thought about this newest revelation. Whoever was doing this was working quietly, preferring to buy the weapons rather than steal them. Stealing weapons, especially enchanted ones, drew attention. That sort of news would have traveled in the merchant circles like wildfire. Lhiannon was sure they would have heard about such activities by now if they were indeed stolen. She made a note to speak to Mervis about any such rumors he may be privy to.

Loghain stood near the window, his gaze on the buildings outside. He rubbed his chin in thought, a deep frown crossing his face as he turned to face Lhiannon and Varel. "Such weapons are often used against powerful adversaries. Some can cut through the heaviest armor with little difficulty." He paused for a moment, considering. "Many are used by assassins; especially those weapons that can render armor ineffective."

"Had you observed enchanted weapons at the shops in Amaranthine?" Varel asked, turning his troubled gaze to a pacing Loghain.

"Few. There were only a handful of enchanted items of any sort in the shops," Loghain said. "Clearly these weapons are not destined for the shops. Where, then, are they going?"

Varel pursed his lips together, scowling. "Stockpiling? Could someone be gathering them for another purpose?"

"I care not for that thought," Loghain growled, turning his gaze to Lhiannon. She appeared to be deep in thought; her eyes were lingering on her desk, slightly unfocused. Loghain could almost hear her racing thoughts as she drummed her fingers on the top of her desk. He returned his attention to Varel. "I take it there are no names in the ledger?"

"Coded," Varel confirmed.

"The questions now are who is behind this and why." Lhiannon paused for a moment before continuing. "Varel, I'm going to have to leave the investigation in your capable hands for the time being. Not only must we investigate the Wending Wood regarding the problems there, but also Loghain and I have been summoned to Denerim for court. We shall investigate the Wood on the way to Denerim."

"As you wish, Commander. I will also have Captain Garavel assist in the investigation."

"See to it," Lhiannon agreed, "however, I would like Captain Garavel and some of his soldiers to accompany us in case we encounter an organized group of miscreants in the Wood. Safety in numbers, you know. Perhaps Sergeant Maverlies can assist you. Also speak to Mervis of the Merchants Guild in Amaranthine to see if he has heard rumors of missing or stolen weapons."

Varel nodded at her. "I will speak with Captain Garavel and Sergeant Maverlies; I will let her know what we suspect. I shall also use my own contacts within the arling to aid in the investigation while you are gone. Perhaps we can uncover some of the true identities of the individuals referenced in the ledger." He paused, furrowing his brow in thought. "What have you learned about the Wending Wood and its connection to the smuggling?"

Lhiannon tapped her fingertip on the top of her desk. "The Merchants Guild suspects the darkspawn could be disrupting the trade routes, but they're not certain. It could be just smugglers causing all the trouble. With the difficulty in communications, no one is entirely sure. Some people have claimed to have seen 'monsters' in the Wood."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Varel scratching notes on a piece of parchment he held on his lap while Loghain returned to the window to gaze outside. Lhiannon waited patiently for Varel to finish; she liked that he was such a meticulous seneschal. His value grew on her with each passing day. She was not afraid to admit that without the support of her seneschal, the arling would be running far less efficiently. When he had finished scratching his notes, Lhiannon asked him what he knew of the Wending Wood. She had only been through it a handful of times; the last was when they accompanied Mhairi from Denerim. Mhairi had stuck to the main path and was rushing her and Loghain through it to get to the Vigil as soon as they could, leaving no time for exploration.

"Well, Commander, there are some ancient Tevinter ruins there and a number of Andrastian statues scattered throughout. The last time I traveled through it, I found it no more dangerous than other wild areas of Denerim. That was before the Blight, mind you." Varel shifted in his seat, looking for a more comfortable position. "How long do you think you will be in Denerim, Commander?"

Lhiannon shrugged slightly. "The plan is to return to the Vigil right after the formalities are concluded. The formal sessions of court are scheduled to take place over two days, but there's sure to be more mingling and informal gatherings before and after." Lhiannon snorted, grinning at Varel in a conspiratorial way and glancing in Loghain's direction. "Loghain hates court; it would be easier to talk him into taking a trip to Val Royeaux to have tea with the Empress than to stay at court any longer than the formalities dictate."

"Mind your words, insolent child," Loghain growled at Lhiannon. "I would not stoop so low."

Varel returned her conspiratorial smile before looking at Loghain. "I am hardly surprised that you have little patience with court, Warden." Loghain grunted as Varel turned back to Lhiannon. "When you leave, may I suggest taking several messaging birds with you? If you need to get word back to me quickly on any matters that arise at court, that would be the best way to do it," Varel said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands in his lap.

Lhiannon nodded her approval. "Agreed. Also, I'd like you to send Oghren, the Glavonak brothers, and some soldiers down into the basements to seal whatever breach the darkspawn used to infiltrate the Vigil. I'm sure they will be back eventually and I'd rather not have them walk right up to our front door." She grinned at Varel. "Make sure you secure the ale barrels; I don't want Oghren to think he can drink himself into an even greater stupor with me gone."

"I understand, Commander, though you know he won't be very amenable to that," Varel chuckled.

Lhiannon joined in Varel's amusement, laughing for a moment before continuing. "Speaking of Voldrik, I'd like you to keep tabs on the repairs to the Vigil. I want the fortress to be ready for the darkspawn if they come again. I have a feeling we've not seen the last of them."

"Do you feel something through the taint?" Varel asked, his face betraying his deep concern. Lhiannon paused before shaking her head. "No, Varel, I can't say I feel anything specific. But I _do_ feel something and that is enough for me to want to take precautions."

* * *

Shortly after her meeting with Varel and Loghain was concluded, Lhiannon exited the Vigil, walking the walls of the fortress as she observed the ongoing repairs. The sense of something brewing within the taint was tickling at her mind, growing with each passing day. It did not have the feel of a full-blown Blight, but the sense of _wrongness _remained; that should have been fading with the demise of the archdemon. That the feeling of wrongness was still niggling at her senses was enough to concern her.

The largest breaches in the walls were finally closing; Voldrik Glavonak was certainly worth the eighty sovereigns she had needed to part with. He may complain about the quality of the granite and stone he had to work with—and his assessment of the "shoddy" workmanship of the humans that built the fortress—but his progress in sealing the breaches had been nothing short of remarkable.

As Lhiannon walked the Vigil's grounds, she felt the taint nearby; not darkspawn, thank the Maker, but a melancholy brooding not unlike that she felt from Loghain on occasion. Rounding the corner of a small building, she saw one of the ladders leading up to the top of the wall; it was meant for archers to quickly scale the wall to help fend off any hostile parties that may approach the fortress. The brooding feel was coming from the top of the wall. Curious, Lhiannon climbed the ladder and found Nathaniel there, leaning against the stone wall and gazing out over the countryside. She could tell he sensed her there, but he made no move to acknowledge her. She leaned against the wall a few feet away, knitting her fingers together and looking out over the countryside with him.

"Delilah is pregnant with her first," Nathaniel began, his voice low and melancholy. "She's due in the spring."

"That's wonderful news, Nathaniel."

"Albert, her husband, was on a trip to Orzammar, looking for gems to sell in his shop. Delilah wants me to meet him when we next go to Amaranthine, if I can."

Lhiannon nodded. "Of course. We shall try and make it a point for you to visit."

Silence came down on them for several long moments, each gazing out over the countryside, lost in their thoughts. "The last thing my father told me when he sent me to the Free Marches was to learn all I could, as one could never learn too much. He was so...normal then," Nathaniel said, sighing sadly. "Now the Howe's are pariahs. Maybe I should have insisted on staying here instead of going to the Free Marches. Maybe I could have done _something_ to stop him."

"Had you stayed, Nathaniel, you likely would have been with Thomas and died in the war," Lhiannon said. They were silent for a few moments again before Lhiannon scoffed lightly, breaking the silence between them. "The last thing my father told _me_ was that I was an abomination in the sight of the Maker, and that I should do the world a favor and slit my own throat, as I was not fit to live in the Maker's world. That was just before he cursed and disowned me."

Nathaniel heard a small amount of bitterness in her voice. He also found himself shocked at her revelation. "Why would he say such a terrible thing to his own child?"

"He, my mother, and my brother were all fundamentalist, cultist Andrastians. They believed magic was a sin and an abomination in the Maker's eyes. As soon as my abilities manifested, he had me dragged off to Kinloch Hold, my hands bound like a criminal."

"Have you had contact with them since?" Nathaniel asked.

With a sigh, Lhiannon shook her head. "Not a peep. I don't even know if any of them are still alive."

"You have no other family?"

"Not blood family, but I do have a family of sorts from Kinloch Hold. Anders and I have been friends for years." She paused, her voice growing emotional. "I have wonderful friends and that means far more to me than anything."

Nathaniel slightly turned his head toward her, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "And what of Loghain?"

Lhiannon sighed, this time Nathaniel noted that is was one of contentment. He watched her face relax and a small smile cross it. "When darkness is all around me, he is my light. I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I love him so completely that I can scarcely fathom it."

Nathaniel turned away from Lhiannon and returned his stare to the countryside for several moments before dropping his head, his eyes downcast. "When you were...held...at my Father's estate in Denerim, did he...torture...you...?

With a reluctant nod and sigh, Lhiannon answered, knowing that her answer would be like pouring salt into a gaping wound. "Yes, he did," she said quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Commander," Nathaniel whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

Reaching over, she placed a hand on his forearm. "Nathaniel, it wasn't your fault. You're _not_ responsible for what he did. _You are not to blame_, and I hold no such blame against you." Nathaniel turned to look at her, a deep sadness in his eyes. She also saw something else there: hope. "Nathaniel, I'm proud to have you as a Grey Warden. Your actions bring honor back to the Howe name."

Nathaniel nodded and placed a hand on hers in silent thanks. Lhiannon briefly studied Nathaniel's face; he was still holding his gaze down, but his face had lost some of the bitterness and sadness it had held. "We'll leave for the Wending Wood and Denerim in the morning," she said.

"I'll be ready, Commander," Nathaniel said, nodding as she turned to leave. Nathaniel brought his gaze back up to look over the countryside once again. Perhaps he was mistaken about the Commander. After what Delilah told him, he was beginning to agree with her; perhaps Father _did_ deserve to die for what he had done. He had brought ruin upon the Howe name through his reckless ambitions, and it was up to him and Delilah to restore it. The Grey Wardens were the opportunity he needed to bring about his name's restoration; he vowed that he would stop at nothing to achieve it.

* * *

The sun had been hiding behind the clouds for most of the day as Lhiannon and her companions made their way south toward the Wending Wood from Vigil's Keep. The density of the trees had steadily increased as they traveled The Pilgrim's Path, eventually filtering out what little sun there was. The breeze caused the leaves to rustle together and they could occasionally hear the creaking of tree limbs from high overhead. Captain Garavel and his soldiers traveled at the front and back of the group with the Grey Wardens positioned in the middle. As they traveled, Anders would occasionally stand in his horse's stirrups to brush his hand on a low hanging branch or reach out and run it along the trunk of a tree that sat close to the path.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing?" Nathaniel asked after observing Anders run his fingertips along a tree trunk next to the path.

"Well, I grew up in a tower in the middle of a lake. Trees weren't exactly common there. I find them fascinating," Anders explained, plucking a leaf off a low hanging branch and examining it. "I wonder what kind of tree this is."

Lhiannon was traveling just behind Captain Garavel and one of his soldiers, studying the path ahead. The wind had turned direction and blew a gentle breeze into her face, ruffling the small locks of hair that had come loose from the tie at the base of her head. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head as she caught the faint smell of smoke on the breeze.

"Do you smell that?" she asked Loghain, who rode next to her. He nodded in confirmation. "Smoke," he agreed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the path ahead. They continued down the path for several more minutes before coming upon a bend in the road ahead. As they rounded the bend, they saw before them the source of the smoke that they had smelled earlier. A wagon was burning fiercely in their path, crates scattered around the wreckage. Some of the shattered crates were also smoldering themselves. Captain Garavel held up his hand, guiding his horse to a stop as the others followed suit.

"Hold here Captain," Lhiannon said quietly, sliding off the back of her horse. She could feel the faint stirrings in the taint telling her that darkspawn had recently been in the vicinity. Loghain, Anders, and Nathaniel slid off their horses and began to scan their surroundings warily. They handed the reins of their horses to the soldiers accompanying them. "Darkspawn have been here recently," Lhiannon explained at the other Grey Wardens came to her side. "Let us investigate first. We'll let you know when it's clear."

"As you wish, Commander," Garavel replied, quietly relaying the command to his soldiers.

Lhiannon and the other Grey Wardens began to cautiously approach the burning wreckage, hands near their weapons and eyes searching for movement from the trees. As they drew closer, they heard low voices and shuffling sounds from behind the wreckage. "Bandits?" Lhiannon whispered to Loghain.

"Uncertain. I'll take Nathaniel and flank them if you'd like to investigate." Lhiannon nodded and watched Loghain motion to Nathaniel to follow him off to the side. They quietly took cover amongst the trees, keeping Lhiannon, Anders, and the burning wreckage in sight.

"Hello there," Lhiannon called out once Loghain and Nathaniel had moved away to hide among the trees. "You seem to have had a spot of trouble. Do you require assistance?" She and Anders had walked toward the three men poking through the ruined caravan. They quickly looked up at the approaching mages and settled their hands close to their weapons.

"This is our find. Go away before you get hurt."

"Your find?" Anders asked. "So you're not the owners of this caravan?"

The men suddenly drew their weapons and rushed forward. Lhiannon put an arm out and shoved Anders behind her as she drew Spellweaver. "Wrong answer, gentlemen."

Lhiannon heard the whistle of an arrow in the air an instant before it found purchase in the arm of the man rushing toward her. He flinched and swore but before he could continue charging at Lhiannon, she swung Spellweaver upward and cleanly severed the man's head at his shoulders. The blood fountained out of the corpse for a moment before falling silently to the ground. She heard Loghain crashing through the brush beside her, raising his shield to deflect the oncoming sword of the second man. Before Lhiannon or Anders could rush over to help, Loghain had used his forward momentum to knock the attacker off his feet, plunging his sword into his chest and pinning him to the ground.

The third man turned to run deeper into the forest. Lhiannon began to give chase but stopped when first one, then two arrows suddenly appeared in the man's back. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw Nathaniel release a third arrow with deadly precision. It found purchase in the man's neck, knocking him to the ground where he went still. Lhiannon ran over to the downed man and seeing that he was indeed dead, pulled the arrows from his body. No sense in wasting them.

Lhiannon hurried back to where Captain Garavel and his men had joined the other Grey Wardens in examining the burning wreckage. Lhiannon approached one of the crates that was not burning and opened it. Inside were bundles of food and basic sundries. Anders had opened another crate and was delighted to find fine bolts of cloth inside; expensive weaves of cotton and silk. He ran his hand over the fabrics, delighting in their textures and wondering if anyone would miss just one bolt.

"I think we may have stumbled onto some of the goods being smuggled into Amaranthine," Lhiannon surmised. "The bandits probably attack the caravans, taking some of the goods for themselves and smuggling the rest into the city where they can sell them for exorbitant prices to either the merchants or the common folk."

Loghain scoffed. "The lawlessness of this arling turns my stomach."

Captain Garavel nodded his agreement. "It sickens me as well, Warden. We should investigate further and see if there are any other smugglers in the Wending Wood and put a stop to them."

The soldiers and Grey Wardens mounted their horses again, continuing their journey through the Wending Wood. They found more evidence of destroyed caravans; wreckage that was still actively burning and others that were little more than piles of ash to be blown about in the wind.

As they traveled the paths through the forest, they found themselves beset by more than one troublesome pack of sylvans. After fighting what seemed like the umpteenth pack, Anders announced that he was no longer fascinated with trees. "That's it. I'm done. Trees are evil," he said as he pulled a lyrium flask out of his pack and drained it. As he moved to put the empty flask back into his pack, Lhiannon saw his eyes go wide as he looked at something above and behind her. Lhiannon turned around and saw a new sylvan lurching toward them, it's crown of leaves burning in a bright corona of fire.

Lhiannon looked over her shoulder at Anders. "I'm beginning to agree with you about the trees." Both mages began to cast icy spells, hoping to freeze the creature in place so Nathaniel's arrows or Loghain's sword could do the most damage. As the creature began to move again, Loghain would move away, waiting for the mages to freeze it in place again. After several minutes of back and forth freezing and fighting, the creature finally fell.

"Clearly, there is more going on in this Wood than mere smugglers," Loghain surmised, sheathing his sword. "I have not experienced sylvans quite like those before."

"Nor I, and I have been through these woods a great deal," Garavel said, kicking at the smoldering carcass. "We should keep moving. Perhaps we will find something more."

Lhiannon and Anders gave each other a wary glance. They could sense magical energies in the area; some of it very recently cast. "We need to be careful," Anders told the others. "There is magic at work here."

Lhiannon looked at the rickety bridge ahead of them and wondered if they would even be able to cross it without falling into the deep chasm beneath it. The bridge looked like its troubles were recent however; there were fresh scorch marks all over it, indicating that someone, or something, had tried to set it on fire. Captain Garavel and one of his soldiers had begun to inspect the span, looking to see if it would be safe to cross. After a number of minutes peering over the side and running their hands along the span, they declared that the bridge looked worse than it appeared and should be safe for them to cross. One by one, they began to carefully traverse the derelict looking span.

Lhiannon had just crossed over, sliding off her horse to stretch her legs when she heard the pounding of running feet approaching. She pulled Spellweaver and looked up to see a man running toward the bridge, eyes wide with fright and panting heavily. She held up her hand to stop him. "Easy now, stranger. Do you need assistance?"

The man stumbled and stopped briefly, putting his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. His face was red with exertion and Lhiannon could almost smell the fear coming off him. "I need…to get out…" he stammered, his chest heaving in exertion.

"What is this?" Loghain asked tersely as he approached Lhiannon's side. "Speak quickly man. What is going on?"

"I…just wanted easy money…from the caravans…"

"You're a smuggler? Lhiannon asked.

The man nodded, standing straight now with eyes still wide with fear. He pointed to the area behind him. "The elf, she's making the trees come alive! I have to get out of here!" He quickly bolted away from Loghain's reaching hand and fled across the bridge, into the forest behind them.

"Maker's breath," he swore, pointing at two of Garavel's guards. "Go after him. Bring him back."

The soldiers turned to give chase. As they did so, the sound of many snapping twigs from the ledge above them made everyone turn their heads. A column of tangled roots and branches appeared to grow upwards from the ground, twisting and tangling among themselves in a living, writhing mass. As suddenly as it appeared it withered away, leaving behind the waiflike form of an elf. Lhiannon could clearly see that the elf was from one of the Dalish clans. She had light hair and subtly drawn tattoos over her delicate face. She wore robes made of animal skins and carried a long staff that appeared to be made of dragon bone, an orange crystal held in the claw at the tip of the weapon. Not only did she remind Lhiannon of Morrigan, but the elf also wore a scowl on her face that would have made Morrigan look perky and bright.

"You shemlens are _not_ welcome here," the elf snarled at them, raw hatred in her voice. "Leave, now, before I do to you what I did to the others that dared to come through."

Lhiannon sheathed Spellweaver and raised her hands in front of her, showing that she was unarmed and not a threat. She looked back to the others and motioned for them to sheathe their weapons as well. They did, but Lhiannon caught Loghain's disapproving glare as she turned to regard the elf again.

"We are only here to investigate the missing caravans. I assure you we mean no disrespect. We only wish to continue our investigation and carry on passing through the Wending Wood on the way to the capital." She continued to walk slowly forward, keeping her motions slow and deliberate as not to further antagonize the elf.

"You stupid shemlens, thinking you can go wherever you please and do whatever you wish, heedless of the consequences. The _merchants_ kidnapped my sister and killed those of my clan. I have exacted my revenge upon them. I shall do so to you as well, if you do not leave now." The elf held up her staff at Lhiannon menacingly. "That's close enough, shemlen."

"Perhaps we can help you find your sister, if you will let us continue our journey in return," Lhiannon suggested in a calm voice, halting in place. She watched the elf's face shrivel in disgust.

"I _will not_ accept help from shemlens," she spat angrily. The elf raised her staff, moving her delicate hands as she began to cast. "You have brought this upon yourselves, just like the shemlens who took my sister did. _Die now_." Branches and roots enveloped her again before she disappeared. Just before she was completely enveloped however, Lhiannon saw her wave her hand as she cast out her magic. Ominous creaking and groaning began to rise from around them and as she turned her head, the trees came to life around them.

* * *

_A/N: As always, thanks to all of you who take the time to read and review the story. It's much appreciated!_

_Did I just leave another cliffhanger? ;)  
_


	26. Blood Runs Cold

Lhiannon whipped her head around and saw the trees lurching toward them, the creaking of limbs and rustling of leaves creating a loud cacophony around them. The mysterious, angry elf was nowhere to be seen. Lhiannon and Anders stood nearly back to back, the others between them, as they chanted the fire spells that would burn the lurching sylvans. They then quickly switched to icy spells when the flames died, freezing the trees in place and allowing the warriors to quickly dispatch the creatures. As they fought, Lhiannon suddenly found herself stuck in place, roots coming up from the ground and wrapping themselves around her legs. They quickly snaked upwards, winding around her arms and holding them still. She struggled furiously against the writhing roots only to have them wind about her tighter. She shrieked in fear and frustration, causing Loghain to whip his head around and look at her. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw her plight.

"Lhiannon!" he shouted, racing forward and cutting at the roots with his sword. Loghain saw that Lhiannon tried to struggle through the roots to free herself, but was held tightly by the writhing mass that threatened to consume her within moments. He watched as Spellweaver fell from her hand, a mass of roots twisting around her empty hand and making is almost unrecognizable.

The roots continued to tighten around Lhiannon as she struggled against them; she could hear the plates of her armor begin to creak from the pressure they exerted. If her plates gave way, she would be crushed in an instant. The roots continued to snake their way toward her neck and Lhiannon had to fight the bile threatening to rise from her stomach. She broke out in a cold sweat and looked at Loghain with wide, terrified eyes. Loghain quickly sheathed his sword and pulled the hunting dagger from his boot. He began to carefully cut at the roots nearing her neck, pulling them away one by one. Loghain saw that for every root he pulled away, another quickly came to take its place, nearly wrapping around his own hand in the process. He fought the anxiety that began to settle into his gut, focusing instead on cutting the most threatening roots first. Even as he cut, he could see that he was fighting a losing battle. He had to keep trying; there was no way he would allow this spell to take her from him, not while he still drew breath.

"Loghain, go destroy the sylvan that is doing this," Lhiannon cried out, trying to hold the increasing panic at bay. The roots kept coming, continuing to wrap around her limbs and almost completely obscuring her body as Loghain continued to cut at them. He looked into her eyes, torn between what she told him to do and his desperate need to protect her. Her eyes narrowed at him. "Don't argue. Go!"

Anders turned and saw Lhiannon's plight as the roots beginning to snake around her head and face. He quickly chanted another blizzard spell and with a flourish of hands, sent it out to the sylvans closest to her. Two of the creatures froze in place and Lhiannon was relieved to see the roots around her slow their writhing advancement.

"There!" she shouted at the others, her cries muffled by the roots around her face. "One of them!"

Loghain again pulled his sword and quickly rushed forward. He grasped his sword in both hands, swinging it at the sylvans with all his strength, cutting branches and causing the creatures to moan in agony as they were held fast by Anders' spell. Loghain hacked at them mercilessly, venting his anger at the creatures and the elf that conjured them with every deliberate swing of his sword. When the blizzard spell finally broke, both trees fell forward lifelessly in a tangle of limbs and branches. Loghain turned and saw that Captain Garavel and his soldiers had surrounded the final sylvan, hacking at it mercilessly with their swords until it too fell dead.

Lhiannon felt the roots around her stop growing and watched as they began to slowly shrivel and die, the pressure they exerted on her armor weakening rapidly. She began to feel a tremendous relief and calmed slightly, though she was still caught fast and unable to move as of yet. Loghain and Nathaniel were quickly at her side, cutting and pulling away the dying roots as Anders cast a spell to heal her wounds. It took several minutes of cutting, but Lhiannon was finally freed from her prison of roots. She watched as Loghain eyed her closely, looking for any outward signs of injury. She grinned at him and nodded. "I'm all right, Loghain." He nodded in return, lightly brushing her cheek with his hand before turning to look up at where they last saw the mysterious elf on the ledge above them.

"I don't think that elf has ventured too far," Loghain said. "We should be cautious." _And if I have my way, the last thing she will see is my sword buried to the hilt in her chest for what nearly happened._

"Let's move on then," Lhiannon agreed. "Perhaps we can find out more about this elf and what role she has played in the caravan disruptions. It's clear that she has done _something._"

* * *

They continued following the main path through the Wending Wood and eventually came upon a large building and a deserted campsite. The Grey Wardens approached the campsite cautiously, weapons drawn and watching for any movement to indicate an attack was imminent. The taint within them was relentlessly tickling at their minds and pulling on their blood, causing them to observe the campsite and the surroundings with wary eyes.

"Do you feel darkspawn?" Nathaniel asked, pulling an arrow from his quiver and readying it in his bow. His eyes were constantly moving from side to side, watching carefully for sudden movements.

"They've been here recently," Lhiannon confirmed. Her eyes narrowed as she saw something poking out of the ground in front of them. Anders had also spotted it. "What is that?" he asked, confusion in his words as they cautiously began to approach the object.

"A sword," Loghain said, walking up and examining it. "It's human. It also looks like it was placed here on purpose to attract attention."

Nathaniel had moved on ahead, looking at the abandoned carts and what appeared to be makeshift graves. "These carts look Dalish," he surmised, walking up to one of them and examining it closely. "Landships," Loghain confirmed when he saw the strange masts and rudders attached to the carts.

"That sword back there, does that mean humans ambushed this camp? Killed the Dalish?" Anders asked, scratching his head and mussing his golden hair.

"I think that's what we were meant to believe," Loghain said, casting his eyes about warily. The sense of darkspawn was beginning to pull harder at his blood. "Be cautious. The taint grows stronger."

"Let's keep searching the Wood," Lhiannon suggested. "Clearly there are darkspawn here. We need to take care of them before we can continue on." She turned and walked to where Captain Garavel and his soldiers were waiting near the locked building just outside the campsite.

"Captain, stay here for now," Lhiannon ordered. "There are darkspawn in the area that we need to dispatch. Call out if you need us."

"Yes, Commander," he replied, turning to his soldiers and ordering them to stay sharp. The soldiers drew their weapons, warily watching the forest around them.

Loghain took point as the Grey Wardens continued down the narrow path, the sense of darkspawn and their own unease growing stronger the further they traveled. Their weapons were drawn, ready to fend off an attack if one arose. They neared what looked like a depression in the ground near a rocky area, the smell of burnt flesh on the breeze assailing their senses. On the lip of the depression was a strange mass, twisted and blackened. As they drew closer, they were horrified to find that it was a charred corpse and the depression they came across was not a natural one, but a mass grave. The bodies thrown carelessly inside were burned beyond recognition, impossible to determine any sort of race or gender. Lhiannon covered her mouth with her armored hand, fighting the urge to vomit. Anders, however, was less successful; Lhiannon turned to see him quickly scramble into the nearby bushes.

Nathaniel leaned in toward where Lhiannon stood. She turned to look at him; his face had turned a sickly gray color. "If I have to answer nature's call, someone is going with me; I'm not going alone."

Loghain stood over the grave, a look of disgust on his face and his head shaking in disbelief. "Did that elf do this? Burn these corpses and bring them here? Or was it the darkspawn?"

"I don't think I care for either possibility," Lhiannon grimaced, turning away from the carnage below.

Anders returned from the bushes, wiping his mouth with a rag and reaching into his pack for a flask of water. He rinsed his mouth with the water, spitting into the dirt behind him. "Not to sound like a complete coward, but can we please leave? I don't want to be here when whoever, or whatever, did this comes back."

They left the pit of corpses behind, continuing to explore the Wood looking for either the elf or the darkspawn that they all clearly sensed. Several small bands of darkspawn appeared in their path as they traveled, all easily dealt with within moments. As the Grey Wardens traveled, they came upon a small rise in the land. Loghain held his arm out suddenly as they approached it, stopping the others behind him as he crouched down to look at a stain he spotted on the rocks in the path. He removed one of his gauntlets and reached out to touch the stain, a small amount of it sticking to his finger. He brought it up close to his face, examining it with his eyes before finally smelling it. Lhiannon watched as his brows furrowed and a wary look crossed his face.

"See here?" he said, pointing to the dark stain on the rock. "Blood. Someone, or something, passed by here recently with a severe enough injury to leave fresh blood behind." Loghain turned to the grass nearby and wiped his fingers clean before replacing his gauntlet.

Lhiannon took a few tentative steps ahead, her eyes scanning the ground looking for more blood. She found some not far ahead, this time in a small pool in the dirt path. "Loghain," she called out quietly, "the blood trail leads up this rise." She quietly moved on the path, climbing the small rise with Spellweaver held at the ready in front of her. At the top, Lhiannon was shocked to find a man lying in a crude lean-to just off the main path. The trail of blood led straight to him. She approached him warily, the man's head turning in her direction as she drew near. He flinched and held up his hand.

"Please…" he begged, his voice raspy. Lhiannon could see that he had been attacked by the darkspawn and tainted, his skin growing blotchy and festering as she watched. Loghain could smell the corruption coming off him in waves and it made him grimace. Surely this man would not survive the ravages of the taint much longer.

Lhiannon knelt down before him, watching as the corruption within him advanced before her very eyes. "We're Grey Wardens. We're not here to harm you. What happened here?"

The man turned to look at Lhiannon, his eyes rheumy and white from the rapidly spreading corruption. "I'm from the local militia. We were attacked by darkspawn. My skin, it burns, but I'm so cold…"

"Where did the darkspawn come from? Do you know?" Lhiannon asked.

"Under…" he gasped.

"Under what?" she gently probed.

"No…I'm so cold…"

"Do you know anything about the elf that is in the forest? Or her sister?" Loghain asked, his impatience growing in proportion with his unease.

The militiaman shivered, his skin growing more corrupted as they watched. "Taken…or eaten…"

Lhiannon heard Anders grimace behind her and she shot him a warning glance before turning back to the militiaman. "You've been infected by the taint," she began, sadness in her voice. "It is advancing rapidly."

"Yes," the militiaman agreed, looking at Lhiannon with his disconcerting eyes. "Please, Warden, don't leave me here...like this. End my suffering."

Lhiannon looked at the man and felt pity for him fill her heart. If she were in his place, she would most likely beg for death too. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering him what comfort she could. After a moment, she gently pushed him to the ground so he lay on his back, looking up into the sky. He closed his eyes and his lips began to move as he quietly recited a passage from the Chant of Light.

Lhiannon stood, positioning herself above him and holding her sword pointed down at his chest. Loghain watched as a single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her face. "Maker watch over you," she whispered.

She plunged the sword into his heart.

* * *

The Grey Wardens built a makeshift pyre for the militiaman. With a whisper and gesture, both Lhiannon and Anders set the pyre aflame, the intense heat from their spells turning the pyre to mere ash in moments. They had stood there quietly, Loghain standing next to Lhiannon, offering comfort through his presence. She had done the right thing, he thought, ending the militiaman's suffering before he could turn into a ghoul, compelled to follow the darkspawn until he died a horrific death. After the pyre had burned down, Lhiannon looked about to get her bearings, seeing the locked building still behind them in the distance.

"Come, lets go back to Captain Garavel and see if he has anything to report," she said, moving toward the path. She turned to look back over her shoulder at the pyre one last time, offering a quick prayer for the militiaman. The taint suddenly began to flare within her, the burning sensation searing under her skin. When she turned forward again she found that an emissary stood in the path before them, flanked by a number of darkspawn. It hissed at her, baring its jagged teeth and brandishing its staff toward them. The other darkspawn began to hiss in unison with the emissary, their movements agitated as the standoff with the Grey Wardens continued.

"There you are, beasties," Anders muttered. "Coming out to play with the Grey Wardens?"

Lhiannon heard the emissary hiss angrily at them again before raising its staff to begin casting. She heard the twang of Nathaniel's bow and saw an arrow embed itself in the emissary's shoulder an instant later. It roared in pain, but continued to cast. The other darkspawn broke ranks and began to rush toward the Grey Wardens.

Loghain and Lhiannon ran forward and began fighting with the darkspawn surrounding the emissary, their blades and armor quickly becoming covered in black ichor. Lhiannon could see Anders through the corner of her eye casting spells of fire that engulfed another group of darkspawn. She heard the drone of Nathaniel's arrows in the air and could see a number of them appearing in the beasts in front of her. As she ran her blade through a charging genlock, she looked up to see Loghain take a mighty swing at the emissary, severing the creature's head. It flew a number of feet away, rolling down a slight embankment and out of sight. The body slumped toward the ground, spilling ichor as it fell. The other darkspawn became disorganized at the fall of their leader and quickly succumbed to the Grey Wardens.

Lhiannon sheathed Spellweaver as she walked up to the emissary, looking at a pack it had slung across its body. She found it strange that this particular creature carried such a pack; darkspawn were not known to pillage the bodies of those they killed. Curious, she opened it and began to rifle through the contents. She found that the pack contained what could only be the personal effects of individuals; jewelry, kerchiefs, money packs. One item in particular drew her attention. It was a small leather cord with an ironbark pendant inlaid with silver. She held it up to the light, admiring the workmanship.

"Dalish," Nathaniel exclaimed. "Maybe that crazy elf will recognize it. Perhaps it belonged to her sister."

"It appears the darkspawn have played the humans against the elves," Loghain said as looked at the Dalish amulet. His face darkened with a scowl as he pondered the thought. "I care not for this. There is more going on here than simply darkspawn incursions."

"I fear you are right, Loghain," Lhiannon agreed with a weary sigh. "As for the elf, if we find her again, returning this trinket will hopefully show her we mean no disrespect," she continued, placing the trinket into a small pouch inside her armor. Turning to the path, she began to walk back toward the building where they had left Garavel and the others. The sense of unease was still heavy in the air between them as they backtracked. They rounded a corner near the abandoned building when the heard the ominous rustling of branches from a ledge above, warning them of the elf's presence again.

"What do you want from me?" she shouted angrily at them. "I have to get Seranni back and you insist on disturbing me!"

Lhiannon raised her hand, trying to reason with the agitated elf. "I just want to talk to you about what's going on here."

"I have nothing to say to you, shemlen. Stop following me!" she roared at them, waving her hand again to bring more trees to life. By this time however, the Grey Wardens had nearly perfected their fighting techniques against the sylvans. Anders and Lhiannon would cast spells while Nathaniel and Loghain picked them off as they were held fast. Everyone kept moving, not staying in any one spot for too long, lest they be overwhelmed by roots as Lhiannon had been earlier. They made short work of the sylvans before continuing on toward the Dalish camp. As they approached, they saw the elf standing amidst the ruined carts and makeshift graves, hands clenched at her sides and her body shaking in anger and grief.

Lhiannon held up a hand to the Wardens behind her. "Hold here. Let me approach her."

"Are you certain that's wise?" Loghain asked, his voice low and wary. Lhiannon turned to grin at him. "Who knows? Have Nathaniel keep an arrow on her though." Loghain grunted an approval and turned to speak quietly to Nathaniel. He quietly readied an arrow, holding his bow low but at the ready. Lhiannon sheathed her sword, holding her hands up as she slowly approached the elf to show she was unarmed and not a threat.

"Go away, shemlen," the elf warned, her voice weary and resigned.

"The darkspawn have played the elves and humans against each other. You see this, yes?" Lhiannon said, her voice low and soothing as she walked slowly toward the elf. The elf's posture suddenly became even more rigid than it was before; Lhiannon stopped moving, not wanting to antagonize the elf further as she continued to stare at the wreckage around her.

The elf stood there for several moments, saying nothing and not moving. Lhiannon carefully reached into her pouch and brought out the elven trinket. She held it out to the elf. "We found this on a darkspawn emissary."

The elf made no move to turn, but simply remained where she stood, looking at the abandoned camp.

"It's elven," Lhiannon said, continuing to hold the trinket out. "I thought you might want to see it. See if you recognize it."

The elf slowly turned and gazed at the trinket in Lhiannon's hand. Her strange eyes widened and she ran over to where Lhiannon stood, snatching the trinket from her hand. The elf stared at it for a moment, her face becoming both angry and sad. Lhiannon lowered her hand as the elf studied the trinket.

"This is Seranni's," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "My sister's. She would never part with this freely. It was our mother's; she gave it to Seranni before she died."

"I don't know why the darkspawn are acting this way," Lhiannon began softly, hoping to keep the elf calm. "But I and my Grey Wardens are going to find out."

The elf looked at Lhiannon suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. "You…are a Grey Warden?"

Lhiannon nodded. "I am indeed. I am Warden Commander Lhiannon Amell."

The elf curtly nodded in return. "I am Velanna. I know I have given you no reason to trust me, but let me come with you. I want to know why the darkspawn did this. I need to know what happened to my sister. If she still lives…"

"You certainly can accompany us if that is your wish," Lhiannon agreed. "I do have one small thing to ask of you though."

Velanna's eyes narrowed, looking at Lhiannon suspiciously. "By the creators, you humans _always _want something. What is it?" the elf snapped.

"The captain of the guard from Vigil's Keep has accompanied me here. His name is Garavel. If you would permit it, may they stay here near the Dalish camp? I give you my word that they shall not desecrate the camp in any way." She paused as Velanna regarded her suspiciously. "In fact, I will ask them to defend it, if that is your wish."

Velanna looked at Lhiannon, her look one of confusion. "You, a shemlen, ask my permission instead of just taking what you wish?"

Lhiannon nodded. "I do so ask."

Velanna scoffed, dark humor evident in the gesture. "I've never had a shemlen extend such a courtesy to me before. Very well, I agree; your companions can stay."

"Thank you Velanna," Lhiannon nodded. She then turned and gestured toward the other Grey Wardens. "Those are the Grey Wardens that accompanied me here. We should discuss with them what to investigate next." As Lhiannon began to walk toward Loghain and the others, Velanna fell into step beside her, staff held at her side. When they reached the other Grey Wardens, Lhiannon introduced Velanna to the others, who returned her curt nods with ones of their own.

Velanna turned back to Lhiannon. "Where would the darkspawn go?" she asked, impatience coloring her words.

"They generally go to ground when they decide to go into hiding." Lhiannon explained. She turned and gestured to the building behind Captain Garavel. "Do you know what that building is?"

Velanna nodded, pointing her staff at the locked building behind. "That is an abandoned mine. The tunnels there go deep into the earth."

"Well," Anders began, a smirk crossing his face. "Were I a darkspawn looking to head to ground, an abandoned mine would be a place I'd consider appropriate."

"Then that is were we will go," Lhiannon stated, turning to walk to where Captain Garavel and his soldiers were stationed. They watched warily as the Grey Wardens approached, the menacing elf accompanying them willingly. As Lhiannon and the others arrived, Garavel and the soldiers saluted, standing at attention and patiently waiting for her orders.

"Captain Garavel," Lhiannon began, her hand held out toward the elf. "This is Velanna. She has agreed to allow you and your men to set up our base camp here near the Dalish camp."

He nodded, his face impassive. "Yes, Commander." He turned to his men and gave them the order to set up base camp, Velanna turning to follow them with a suspicious, wary eye. Lhiannon asked Anders and Nathaniel to assist them. As they followed Velanna toward the camp, Lhiannon remained standing near the entrance of the abandoned mine, Loghain and Garavel flanking her.

"Be respectful of the Dalish camp, Captain," Lhiannon began, keeping her voice low so that she could not be overheard. "Velanna is…prickly…at best. I don't want to agitate her further."

Garavel nodded. "I understand, Commander. Where will you be going while we are setting up camp?"

"Velanna tells us that this building here is an abandoned mine," Lhiannon explained. "We are going to search there for the root of the darkspawn problem here in the Wood."

Loghain's gaze fell on the Dalish elf, watching her with suspicion and contempt. "You will allow her to accompany us? I cannot say that I trust her, nor that the decision is wise."

Lhiannon looked to Loghain, who returned his gaze to her from where Velanna stood near the camp. "She did not know that it was the darkspawn, not the humans, that attacked the camp," Lhiannon explained. "She wants to help us investigate what the darkspawn are doing and perhaps find out what happened to her sister."

"I cannot say that this assuages my misgivings," Loghain growled, glancing once again at Velanna before returning his gaze to Lhiannon. She could see that beyond the anger in his eyes lay a deep concern. Velanna made him nervous; a nervous Loghain Mac Tir could be very, very dangerous to Velanna if she proved treacherous in Loghain's eyes.

"I don't completely trust her myself. But if she can help us get to the bottom of what is happening here, we'll have to take the chance." Lhiannon suddenly gave Loghain a lopsided smirk. "I trust you will keep your hand near your sword when Velanna is close, yes?"

Loghain scoffed. "At the very least," he growled.

Garavel's gaze ran over the building, his uneasiness growing. "How long would you have us remain in camp?"

Lhiannon thought about that for a moment before turning to Loghain. "How long would you suggest?" she asked.

Loghain's brows knitted together in thought. "Wait here two full days. We don't know how large this mine is. If you hear no word from us in two days, go back to Vigil's Keep and let Varel know what we suspect."

Lhiannon nodded her agreement, turning to see Anders, Nathaniel, and Velanna approaching from where Garavel's soldiers were busy setting up base camp. Lhiannon wanted one of the Grey Wardens to stay behind with Garavel and his soldiers to warn them of any impending darkspawn attack. She decided that Anders would be the best person for that duty; his offensive magic would be a great help to the soldiers and his healing magic would certainly come in handy if the darkspawn did indeed make an appearance.

"Anders, I would like you to stay with Captain Garavel while we investigate the mine. You'll be able to warn him if any darkspawn approach," Lhiannon said, grinning at him. "I know the dirt in the mine would really sully up your nice robes and we wouldn't want that."

"And do you know how long it takes to get such a fine garment clean?" he quipped back at her, grinning. As quickly as the grin came, it vanished; Anders looked at Lhiannon with concern. "I wish I could come with you, Lhi. But I'll stay here if that is your command."

Lhiannon nodded, placing her hand on Anders' arm. "I want a Grey Warden here with Captain Garavel. Your magic will be of great benefit to them." She paused for a moment, a considering look on her face. "Captain Garavel has orders to return to Vigil's Keep in two days if we have not returned. If that happens, I'm counting on you to deal with Grey Warden affairs until we return. If we...do not...return, you will have to lead and rebuild the order with Varel."

Anders nodded, a grim look on his face as he placed a hand on Lhiannon's shoulder. "You'll be back, Lhi. I know it."

Lhiannon reached up and caressed her friend's cheek, giving him a smile and a nod. She dropped her hand and turned to look between Loghain, Nathaniel, and Velanna. "Let's be off then. It is rude to keep the darkspawn waiting."

* * *

The mine was as dark as Lhiannon suspected; their torches only penetrating the gloom a few feet in any direction. Velanna murmured something in the elven tongue, holding her staff high and bathing the chamber in a soft light. Dust drifted lazily through the gentle currents in the air. Looking ahead, they could see a staircase leading down to the bottom of the cavern they had entered. It must have been a staging area; crates of what looked like supplies were stacked along several of the walls. Scaffolding stood in place along the walls where mining had once taken place.

"The taint is not quiet," Nathaniel murmured, drawing his bow and preparing an arrow for flight. Loghain agreed wholeheartedly. "It feels strange." Loghain turned toward Lhiannon. "You have been a Grey Warden the longest. Does the taint feel strange to you?"

Lhiannon closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment, opening up her tainted senses to the darkspawn around them. The sense _was_ slightly different. She could not place her finger on what that was though and it made her nervous. "Yes. It feels different."

Loghain quietly pulled his sword and shield, holding them at the ready as he took the point and began to descend the stairs before them. He could feel his uneasiness increasing the farther they ventured down the steps and away from the surface. It once again reminded him of the time spent underground in the Deep Roads during the rebellion, trying desperately to get to Gwaren and Maric's decimated army. The increasing expanse of rock above them gave him the sense of being buried alive. He could never comprehend how the dwarves could stand all that rock above them; it was as foreign to him as the blue sky was to them.

Lhiannon reached the bottom of the stairs just behind Loghain, looking around at the cavern they were in. She saw a tunnel heading off into the darkness ahead of them and a path worn through the dust coating the ground.

"Someone has been here very recently," she said quietly. She fought to keep her uneasiness in check, something that was becoming more and more difficult as she felt Loghain's uneasiness also growing. He was generally a pillar of strength, his warrior's demeanor and calmness helping to keep her focused and in command of her emotions. That he was constantly fighting his own growing nervousness was not a good sign.

They began to move slowly forward through the cavern, shadows dancing madly on the walls from the flickering torches and Velanna's staff. They had reached a central area of the cavern when a glyph suddenly appeared on the floor beneath their feet, its sickly glow increasing in intensity and rooting them to the spot. Lhiannon found her body slowly becoming paralyzed and she turned to Loghain, seeing her shocked expression reflected in his face.

"I can't move," he growled quietly. Lhiannon could see him trying to move his body in any direction without success. Behind them, Lhiannon heard Nathaniel swear softly and Velanna spit something vicious sounding in the elven tongue. They suddenly heard the sound of shuffling footsteps from above them. Lhiannon struggled against the growing paralysis, raising her head to look up at the scaffolding above them. She saw what were clearly two darkspawn on the ledge above them, looking down on the Grey Wardens. She narrowed her eyes and looked more closely at them. The taint told her they were darkspawn, but there was an intelligence in their eyes that made her blood run cold. "Andraste's blood, what are they?" she mumbled, even her lips struggling to move against the paralysis holding her tight.

The smaller darkspawn had been a dwarf at one time, perhaps female judging from the long hair and clean face. It was dressed in impressive looking armor, something rare for darkspawn. The taller darkspawn, clearly an emissary of some type, raised a withered hand with long talons for fingernails. It slowly waved its hand at them, casting a spell. Lhiannon felt the lids of her eyes grow impossibly heavy as the creature's hand moved. She tried to fight the sensation, but the harder she fought, the heavier her eyelids grew. She watched helplessly as Loghain slumped to the ground beside her and heard the light thumping sounds as Nathaniel and Velanna quietly collapsed to the ground behind her. With great effort, Lhiannon again looked up at the creature before she too began to slowly crumple toward the ground, her resistance overcome by the power of the emissary's spell. Just before the darkness took her, she heard the creature speak.

"Sleep."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to read and review the story. I appreciate it! I'd love to hear from you as well; many of your comments spark new ideas or help me expand the story. So, please review or send me a private message if you feel so inclined_. _:)_


	27. Mockery of a Man

Silence wrapped around her like a shroud, broken only by the small scratching sounds coming from Lhiannon's left. She tried to open her eyes to see what the sound could be and found them feeling sticky and gritty, like she had been sleeping off an illness or sleeping for an extended length of time. Her eyes finally cracked opened; the lids still feeling like weights had been attached to them. She blinked several times, willing her blurry vision to clear. A strange, orange light lit the area around her. The light was not strong, however, and most of the room was bathed in thick shadow. As her mind cleared and she became more aware, Lhiannon discovered that she was laying on her back on some sort of hard surface, its rough texture poking into her skin. She was alarmed to discover that she was not wearing her armor or regular underclothes any longer. She felt a cool draft brush up against her skin; it felt like what clothing she wore was thin and covered little of her body. She shivered, feeling gooseflesh break out all over her skin.

Lhiannon tried to raise her hand to rub the sleepiness out of her eyes, but gasped when she discovered she was unable to do so, her wrist shackled to whatever it was she was laying on. The tight manacle encircling her wrist had a short chain attached to it, offering her only limited movement. She felt around the area of her hand, discovering that she was lying on a rough stone slab. Her other hand was also shackled to the slab with a short chain. She tried moving her legs and found that they too were bound tightly. Trying to raise her head to look about, she felt cool metal encircling her neck, securely holding her head to the slab. Terror threatened to overwhelm her and she had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming aloud.

Stretching out with her tainted senses, Lhiannon searched for her companions. As she stretched, she could feel the teeming masses of darkspawn all around her. It was impossible to distinguish the unique feel of her companions from the feel of the darkspawn. Despair threatened to join in her terror, her chest and stomach twisting into tight knots and a cold sweat breaking out all over her body. A burning lump suddenly formed in her throat, closely followed by the burn of desperate, terrified tears in her eyes. _By the Maker, where is everyone?_ _Please don't let me be alone here._

Parts of her body felt like they were both on fire and crawling with insects, the sensations maddening and eroding the already tenuous grip on her terror. Lhiannon moved her head as best she could to try and see what could be causing her arm such distress. She could see a dirty, moldy looking poultice secured to her arm; the maddening sensations were coming from under the cloth. She felt another one on her abdomen. Her body ached slightly where the poultices covered her skin. _Maker's mercy, what has been done to me?_

Lhiannon caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head as best she could within the metal collar surrounding her neck. A creature stood at a workbench, studying a flask it held in one hand while scrawling notes on parchment with the other; it was the source of the scratching sounds that roused her from her unnatural sleep. She stretched out again with her tainted senses, trying to determine what this creature was. The creature appeared to be a darkspawn emissary but as its back was to her, she could not tell with complete certainty. Piles of books surrounded the creature, some haphazardly stacked on the workbench the creature toiled at while others were carefully lined up on shelves as far as the dim light allowed her to see. She was not able to see many of the titles, but those she could see were written in script she had never laid eyes on before; she had not seen such languages in the tomes at Kinloch Hold, and the Circle had books in a great many languages indeed. Many of the books looked ancient, like they would crumble to dust at the slightest touch.

"What have you done with my companions?" Lhiannon croaked, her voice raspy in her parched and aching throat. The creature slowly turned toward her at the sound of her voice, its movements slow and deliberate, as if it wanted to show it meant her no harm. Ironic, she thought, since the creature had her strapped to a table as if to take no chances. She gasped in shock as the creature approached the slab she lay on and looked down at her.

"Do not be frightened, Commander of the Grey Wardens," the creature said, its voice raspy. It spoke slowly, as if it were not entirely used to such an act. "I do not wish to hurt you. In fact, I have tended to your injuries."

Lhiannon sharply inhaled as the creature approached her and she was able to look at it directly for the first time. It was a hideous mockery of a man. Its face looked strangely human but for the bony plates protruding from the top and sides of its head and having one eye drawn downward. It was so thin as to be nearly skeletal, long dark talons at the ends of its fingers. Its robes were dirty and strange, made from a type of leather that she was sure she did not want to know the source of.

The creature held an empty flask in its hand as it approached her. It set the flask on the slab next to her and grabbed one of her arms, releasing it from the manacle. She tried to struggle but it held her arm in an ironclad grip, using one of its talons to open a wound on her wrist. She shouted in pain and fury, struggling as the creature brought the flask up to her skin to catch the freely flowing blood. With a wave of its finger, Lhiannon found herself paralyzed and unable to move, falling back onto the table and glaring at the creature with wide, terrified eyes. She helplessly watched as her blood slowly filled the creature's flask. The creature turned to the worktable and grabbed another flask, holding it to her wound. When it too was filled, it ran a finger over the open wound to close it and replaced the manacle on her arm. When it clicked into place, the creature released the paralysis spell holding her still to the table with a slight wave of its hand.

"What are you?" she whispered, the words passing through her lips with difficulty.

"I am called the Architect," it explained, turning to place the flask of blood on the worktable. Its voice was both smooth and gruff, soothing and terrifying. "I do apologize for what I must do. I have no wish to be your enemy or the enemy of the Grey Wardens, Commander. I merely seek to release my brethren from their compulsion."

Lhiannon fought the bile that threatened to rise from her stomach; she had heard of this creature at Kinloch Hold. The stories told about it had made her blood run cold. "Where are my companions?" she demanded angrily, her fists clenching as she struggled against the manacles holding her to the table.

The Architect looked at her, a seemingly puzzled expression on its face. "Your companions are safe from my brethren. However, now is not the time for discussion." It waved its hand and Lhiannon felt her eyelids grow impossibly heavy again. "Rest."

"No," she protested weakly, feeling herself fall into a dark abyss.

* * *

Loghain groaned and rubbed his forehead as he began to awaken. His eyes still felt impossibly heavy and it took a great deal of effort to open them. He finally managed to pull his eyelids apart, blinking rapidly as his head cleared and he took in his surroundings. He was lying on his side on the cold stone floor of a dingy cell, dressed in little more than rags. Rags that were, of course, too small for his large frame and too thin to prevent the chill from the floor from seeping into his bones. His own clothing was nowhere in sight, let alone his weapons and armor. He grimaced as he sat up, pausing for a moment as his head spun madly. He placed a hand on either side, hoping the gesture would stop the bloody vertigo before it traveled to his stomach to cause havoc there.

Loghain saw that he was not alone in the dingy cell. The prickly elf was with him, pacing the cell in agitation. She was clad in a dirty, ragged dress; the holes in the cloth exposing numerous parts of her pale skin. He looked toward the other side of the cell and saw that neither Nathaniel nor Lhiannon were there. The only other thing in the cell was a small pile of rubble in the corner. He could see several other cells in the area; neither Nathaniel nor Lhiannon were in any of them.

"Do you know what happened?" Loghain asked cautiously.

Velanna stopped her pacing but would not turn to look at him. "No," she spat, beginning to pace once again, her arms crossed against her chest. She began muttering in the elven tongue as she continued to pace. Loghain was nowhere near fluent in the elven language, but spending time with the Night Elves during the rebellion had taught him some of the more colorful phrases. Velanna was swearing like an Antivan sailor.

Loghain's head finally stopped spinning, allowing him to better observe their surroundings. Surprisingly, he found that his injuries had been healed. Not only were the recent ones healed, but several of the niggling injuries he had contended with had also improved. He began to examine his body more closely and found two new scars on his arms; scars that he knew were not there that morning when he donned his armor. They were pink and slightly raised, as if a scab had just fallen off. He ran a finger over each scar, the skin sensitive to his touch. His brows furrowed; what was done to him while he was unconscious?

"Are you injured?" he asked Velanna. "I seem to have been healed since we arrived in the mine."

"No," Velanna responded curtly again, her pacing becoming more agitated as time passed. "I have been healed as well."

"Have you seen anything else since you have been here? Have you seen Nathaniel and Lhiannon?"

Velanna stopped her pacing and turned to face Loghain, irritation written in her features. "By the creators! I don't know anything, shemlen. I only saw them bring _you _in. I woke up in this cell, just as you did…"

The turning of a key in a lock brought Loghain and Velanna's attention to a door outside their cell. Loghain watched warily as the strange emissary and two of its creatures carried in an awake, but obviously groggy, Nathaniel. They opened the cell door and moved to bring Nathaniel inside. Loghain stood slowly and glared at the emissary, his anger barely contained. Velanna looked as if she wanted to rush the creature and claw its eyes out. Loghain held his hand out, silently imploring her to not be so foolish.

"Please, do not try to escape," the creature implored, holding up a hand. "My brethren will seek to harm you. My control over them is tenuous at best and I may not be able to stop them should their bloodlust manifest."

"Where is the Commander?" Loghain demanded, clenching his fists and glaring at the creature. It regarded him with an expression of calm indifference. The emissary instead beckoned to the creatures that brought Nathaniel into the cell, making made no move to answer Loghain's question. The creatures shuffled out, closing and locking the cell door behind them before following the emissary out of the cellblock, locking the outer door as they disappeared through it. Silence descended upon them again.

Loghain and Velanna turned to Nathaniel, who had sat up and was holding his head in his hands. He was also dressed in ragged clothes. "I feel terrible," Nathaniel muttered, "and before you ask; no, I haven't seen Lhiannon. The last thing I remember is being paralyzed when we entered the mine."

"We need to get out of here and find Seranni," Velanna spat, looking at both men with a challenging stare. "We are not leaving this mine until we find her."

"I agree that we need to escape, but we shall not do so without the Commander," Loghain growled at her.

Nathaniel shakily stood, grabbing onto the nearby bars of the cell for support. He slowly made his way over to the cell door and bent down to examine the lock. "I could pick this lock easily if I had my lock pick set with me," Nathaniel observed. "Unfortunately, my picks are hidden within my armor and since it's nowhere to be found, neither are they." Loghain turned to the rubble in the corner, carefully picking through it to see if there was anything they could use there. He swore when he found it was nothing but broken rock and bone fragments, all too small to be used for anything.

The click of a lock a short time later brought Loghain's attention back to the outer door. He watched as it opened and observed the emissary enter, followed by the same two creatures. They were carrying an unconscious Lhiannon, her head lolling back as they carried her. The emissary unlocked the cell door and stepped back, raising its staff in silent warning. The creatures set Lhiannon gently down on the floor before quickly backing out of the cell and locking the door behind them once again. They silently followed the emissary out of the cellblock and locked the outer door as they left. Lhiannon lay on the stone floor, pale and unmoving.

Loghain moved to Lhiannon's side, gently guiding her head into his lap, unconcerned about what the others in the cell may have thought of his gesture. He smoothed her wayward hair, brushing several damp locks away from her face. He laid his hand on her cheek and felt a slight clamminess to her pale skin. She was also wearing a ragged dress and Loghain could see scars on her arms that were very similar to his own.

"Nathaniel; Velanna," Loghain said quietly, looking up from where he sat on the cold floor. "Do you have fresh scars on your arms?"

Nathaniel pulled up the tattered sleeves of his shirt, showing his arms to Loghain. He was also scarred there. Velanna pulled up her sleeves to reveal the smooth, unmarred skin on her arms. Loghain gently raised the sleeves of Lhiannon's tattered dress, showing them the scars she bore.

"So just the Grey Wardens have scars then," Nathaniel observed. "What in the bloody hell did that creature do to us?" Nathaniel moved over to where Loghain was holding Lhiannon and crouched down beside them. "How is she?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm uncertain," Loghain admitted, a worried scowl playing across his face. "She is breathing evenly, though she looks rather pale. Hopefully she will awaken soon." He was troubled not only by Lhiannon's unconsciousness, but also the fact that just the Grey Wardens had scars. His mind began to drift back to the time where Maric had accompanied the Grey Wardens into the Deep Roads; was this creature the same one Maric told him about after they had arrived back in Denerim? If it was, then this new darkspawn threat was every bit as dangerous as the Blight they had just turned back. Perhaps even more so, if the creature's intentions now were the same as they were years ago.

They sat in the cell, waiting for Lhiannon to awaken. It was silent in their prison except for the padding of Velanna's feet as she paced the cell. Nathaniel had been searching the bars of the cell for any loose ones or stray pieces of metal he could fashion a pick out of. Loghain held Lhiannon's head in his lap, his hands resting gently on either side of her head and his thumbs softly stroking the smooth skin of her face. After what seemed like hours, she began to slowly stir. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion playing in them until they finally locked on Loghain's eyes. He gave her a small grin and he could feel her relax as she recognized him. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Lhiannon moved to sit up, Loghain helping to steady her as she did so. She groaned and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I think so," she said hesitantly, Loghain's hands a comforting weight on her. She looked down at the filthy dress the creatures had put on her and grimaced. "Though I must complain to the housekeeper about the laundry. They are doing a terrible job of it."

"Do _you_ know anything about the creature that captured us?" Nathaniel asked, hunkering down beside where Loghain and Lhiannon sat on the floor.

Lhiannon nodded. "Yes. I woke up chained to a stone table. It was collecting my blood. I asked it what it was and it called itself the 'Architect'." She turned suddenly as she heard Loghain's sharp intake of breath. "Loghain, what is it?" she asked warily. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Loghain looked toward the cell door, glaring at it with a dark expression. "Maric told me of this creature years ago, after he had sneaked off into the Deep Roads with a group of Orlesian Grey Wardens to chase down one of their own on a foolish quest." He scoffed irritably, remembering what Maric put him through when he had stolen off like a thief in the night. What he had put a very young Cailan through. "This...Architect...is obsessed with the Grey Wardens. It thinks Grey Warden blood is the key to freeing the darkspawn from the call of the old gods and ending the Blights forever."

"That would likely explain the scars on our arms and why Velanna has no such scars," Nathaniel observed, looking at Loghain's dark expression with concern. "But there's more to it, isn't there?"

Loghain turned to Nathaniel and nodded. "It thought that it could make the darkspawn immune to the call of the old gods. Its plan would have exposed the surface world to the taint, so Maric told me. Countless people would have died. Those that survived would have been tainted."

"Like Grey Wardens," Nathaniel said, running his hand through his hair.

"But where does 'end the Blights' come in?" Lhiannon asked. "How can it do that?"

Loghain shrugged his shoulders, his expression still grave. "Maric told me that the Architect hears the call of the old gods, but is not compelled to obey it. The creature would lead those who follow it to the old gods and destroy them before the darkspawn could corrupt them and give birth to archdemons." Loghain paused, seeming to gather his thoughts from memory. "Maric also told me that the creature was able to sway several Grey Wardens to its cause; three, all told." His gaze shifted over to Lhiannon. "Two of them died at Kinloch Hold."

"And the third?" Nathaniel prompted quietly.

Loghain's gaze returned to Nathaniel. "It escaped the tower with the Architect; I had led part of the army there to deal with the First Enchanter's treachery and they took advantage of the chaos. Maric said it was a dwarf, one of the Silent Sisters. Utha, as I recall."

"Then that was the creature Remille fought when he took over the tower," Lhiannon exclaimed, remembering well the stories told in the Circle over that battle. It was the battle that saw Remille killed and his Orlesian coconspirators hung in the bowels of Kinloch Hold. From what the older mages told her, Loghain himself was there to witness the executions before he returned to Denerim with the King.

"I never saw the Architect or the dwarf at the time," Loghain explained. "I wasn't sure this was the same creature."

"Enough of this talk," Velanna snapped at the Grey Wardens, her cheeks splotched with red in her anger. "We waste time here. We need to find Seranni and…"

The words caught in Velanna's throat as the outer door to their prison opened and an elf entered, quietly closing the door behind her and rushing over to the cell. Lhiannon saw that the elf appeared corrupted, dark blotches mottling her skin and her eyes covered in a milky film. She heard Velanna gasp as the elf came to their cell door, unlocking and opening it.

"Seranni?" Velanna asked, hardly believing that this creature before her could be her missing sister. "By the creators, what have they done to you?"

"Yes," Seranni said, her voice low and hurried. "I'm fine, Velanna. They haven't done anything to me. I have to get you out of here before something bad happens."

"Seranni, you're coming with us. I'm going to take you home," Velanna insisted, grabbing Seranni by the arm and dragging her toward the outer door. Seranni pulled Velanna to a stop, her milky white eyes pleading with her sister.

"I can't. It's not me the Architect wants," Seranni said urgently and quietly, throwing a quick glance to the Grey Wardens before returning her attention to Velanna. "You need to escape before something bad happens and I won't see anyone else hurt."

"Seranni, no, don't say that!" Velanna pleaded with her angrily, grabbing her sister's arm once again. Seranni gently pried Velanna's fingers from her arm, looking toward the Grey Wardens as she spoke. "The Architect's experimental subjects have your weapons and armor. You can get them back, but you must be clever and careful. I won't be able to help you any more than this." Seranni went to the outer door, quickly opening it a crack and peering through it nervously before turning back toward Velanna. "I've been gone for too long already. The Architect and Utha will surely notice that I've been missing. I cannot allow that. I have to go."

"Seranni, no!" Velanna cried in anguish as her sister disappeared through the door. She began to move toward it to follow her sister.

"Velanna," Lhiannon called out quietly. "We must leave. Seranni has given us an opportunity; we must not waste it."

Velanna turned to look at Lhiannon, a hard expression on her face. "You expect me to just leave her? How dare you ask me that, shemlen," she spat viciously.

Lhiannon quickly moved to stand before the elf, her hard gaze boring into Velanna's strange, hate filled eyes. "You would waste the opportunity she has given us to escape by arguing with her plan? Do you not think she knows what she's doing? Do you not think she is looking out for you by doing this?" Lhiannon moved toward the door, beckoning Loghain and Nathaniel to follow. "If you wish to stay here, then do so. The Grey Wardens need to get out of here and find out what exactly the Architect is planning."

Velanna glared indignantly at Lhiannon, the hatred still simmering in her gaze. After a moment, Lhiannon saw the fire begin to cool as Velanna considered their situation. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Then let us go," Velanna snapped.

"I suggest we take the point in this circumstance," Lhiannon suggested to Velanna, which brought an irritated scoff from Loghain. Lhiannon turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in questioning. "You have something to add?" she asked him.

"Other than I don't care for you mages to take the point, no," Loghain groused.

"'We mages' still have our magic available as a weapon, do we not? That's more than can be said for you."

Loghain grumbled his reluctant agreement, which brought a snicker from Nathaniel. "You of all people should know better than to argue with her," Nathaniel quipped to Loghain.

"Stubborn woman," Loghain quietly groused through gritted teeth.

Lhiannon turned to Loghain, giving him a lopsided grin before taking the point with Velanna. "The sweet things you say."

* * *

The Grey Wardens and Velanna carefully maneuvered their way through the abandoned mine, defeating several of the Architect's experimental subjects and recovering their weapons and armor in the process. While Lhiannon had fought before with little more than robes, Loghain felt nearly naked as he fought hand to hand with the darkspawn in the ragged tunic and pants they had clothed him in. The mages burned through wave after wave of the creatures until both were sweaty and pale from the exhaustion caused by so much casting. When the darkspawn had fallen, the Grey Wardens looted the bodies, taking what weapons and armor they could scavenge until they could find their own. Loghain admitted to himself that having the mages take the point had been a sound idea under the circumstances; however, he felt more like himself once he had donned his heavy armor again, his shield a comfortable weight on his arm and his sword like an old friend in his hand.

During the journey through the mine, they came across the Architect's laboratory. Lhiannon wanted to take a few precious minutes to search the room, hoping to find any clues as to what the creature had planned. Nathaniel had found a set of notes on a table while Lhiannon found what appeared to be a journal on the creature's desk. The creature had rough handwriting, as if it were unfamiliar with the process. The notes had questions regarding the song of the old gods and how cooperative Seranni had been. It also wondered if it should have killed "it" while "it" slept. A shiver ran down Lhiannon's spine at that; who, or what, was it referring to? The Architect's journal confirmed that the darkspawn had indeed captured several elves and rigged the campsite to make it look like the humans were responsible for their disappearance. The Architect, if nothing else, was a manipulative creature, determined to bend its followers to its will one way or another. Combined with its obviously high intelligence, it made for a dangerous opponent.

Surprisingly, they found a merchant working in the mines. He was qunari and had no qualms about selling goods to the Architect's minions. Lhiannon quickly determined that the merchant was a greedy sort, looking to turn a quick sovereign wherever he could, including a mine infested with darkspawn. She appealed to his money purse by saying he would get far more business working out of Vigil's Keep, and as the Arlessa of Amaranthine and Commander of the Grey Wardens, she could direct a great deal of business his way. At that, the qunari actually grinned at her in agreement; Lhiannon found the expression disconcerting. She had learned early on in her travels with Sten that grinning qunari were often dangerous; the only time Lhiannon saw Sten grin would be as he pulled his sword to prepare for battle. More than one opponent had turned tail and ran at the sight of the grinning qunari.

Beyond the merchant lay a large chamber cut into the rock. They moved cautiously into the chamber, the pull of the taint becoming stronger as they continued forward. A movement out of the corner of her eye drew Lhiannon's attention to a platform with a hallway leading away from it. On the platform stood the Architect, with Seranni and the dwarf she assumed was Utha at its side. The Architect raised its hand, calling forth two dragon thralls, small dragons corrupted by the darkspawn taint, which immediately attacked the Grey Wardens and Velanna.

The chamber was quickly filled with both fire from the dragon thralls and ice from the mages, the temperature varying wildly between searing hot and freezing cold. The dragons tried to separate their attackers, looking to draw the humans and elf apart so that they could be more easily handled. One of the creatures spotted Nathaniel a short distance away from the others, rapidly firing arrows at the other dragon thrall, hoping to disable it and keep it from flying. The creature saw what Nathaniel was doing and leaped into the air with a great flapping of wings before swooping down to fly just over his head. The force of the air rushing by caused Nathaniel to tumble to the ground, his bow falling out of his hand and just out of reach. Velanna turned when she heard Nathaniel's startled shout, watching as the dragon thrall turned in flight, drawing a great breath as it prepared to spew fire at him. She cursed angrily, swinging her staff as she threw a spell of ice in the dragon's path, disrupting the flames before they could bake Nathaniel alive. The dragon, blinded and disoriented by the icy blast, fell to the ground with a resounding thud, the crack of its neck snapping echoing throughout the chamber, leaving just one thrall remaining.

It was not long before the remaining dragon thrall was defeated and as its blood spilled onto the stone floor, the companions turned to confront the Architect. They watched, mesmerized, as it began to rise into the air, gathering its magic around itself in a sickly iridescent shroud. Nathaniel quickly drew an arrow, aiming at the Architect in an attempt to disrupt its casting. The arrow flew as the creature finished summoning its magic, sending the power up into the stone ceiling ahead of it. The arrow was tossed aside by the force of the magic as the stone caved in, blocking the entrance to the hallway it no doubt fled through and hindering the pursuit of the Grey Wardens and Velanna.

"Seranni," Velanna cried out in anguish as the last of the rubble fell into their path, a cloud of dust swirling about where the entrance once stood. She turned to regard Lhiannon, fire in her elven eyes. "Where will the darkspawn go now?" she barked at Lhiannon. "We must follow them."

Lhiannon shrugged at her. "Darkspawn generally go to ground when they want to hide. They will most likely head for the Deep Roads."

"And the Grey Wardens can track the darkspawn? Even underground, where the children of stone live?"

"Yes," Lhiannon nodded. "Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn underground."

Velanna stood tall, her chin held high. "Then make me a Grey Warden. I wish to track these creatures. I vow to help you if you make me a Grey Warden."

"The Joining is dangerous, Velanna," Lhiannon warned. "Are you sure this is the path you wish to follow?"

"Make me a Grey Warden. I will take the risk," Velanna said, grim determination in her voice. "I wish to follow those who took my sister and killed my people. They deserve justice."

* * *

It was well into the night when the Grey Wardens exited the mine, finding a very relieved Anders waiting for them. The moon was low in the sky and the horizon beginning to show the faintest shades of pink, signaling that dawn was not long off, a great deal of time having passed since they had entered the mine.

"It's about time," Anders quipped, stifling a yawn with his hand; clearly, late night watch duty did not suit him well. "We were getting rather bored out here while you were having all the fun."

"Did you encounter any trouble?" Loghain asked Captain Garavel, who had been roused from his tent by one of the soldiers when the Grey Wardens and Velanna emerged from the mine. He had dressed in little more than trousers and a cloak in his haste to meet the Grey Wardens for a debriefing.

"Very little. All was quiet while you were in the mine, though we were beginning to become concerned with the amount of time that had passed with no word from you." Garavel looked toward the horizon, estimating the time. "We would have had to start back for Vigil's Keep later today had you not returned."

Lhiannon turned to Garavel. "Captain, I want you to return to Vigil's Keep with Velanna. Tell Varel that she wishes to become a Grey Warden and that he is to perform the Joining. Also let Mistress Woolsey know that we have taken care of the caravan troubles in the Wending Wood and that a new merchant is coming to the Vigil."

"You're not returning to your fortress? Or going after the darkspawn?" Velanna asked, her fists clenched in anger. "What purpose does delaying going after the darkspawn serve?"

"No, we are not returning to Vigil's Keep quite yet," Lhiannon said to Velanna, her voice containing a sharp edge. "Loghain and I must travel to Denerim first. My seneschal, Varel, is adept with the Joining ceremony. If you wish to take the Joining right away, he will perform it. If you would rather wait until I return, we will do it then."

"But the darkspawn have Seranni," Velanna insisted angrily. "I cannot allow them to flee with her…"

"Velanna!" Lhiannon barked, silencing the elf's protest with a wave of her hand. "They have fled underground, most likely to the Deep Roads. If the Architect is interested again in the Grey Wardens, it will show itself. Until then, we will watch for any darkspawn incursions on the surface." She paused, thinking about the dreams that she knew in her gut would be coming again, most likely with a vengeance. "Trust me when I say this, Velanna: we _will_ know when the darkspawn are on the move. When you become a Grey Warden, you will know as well."

"I understand," Velanna agreed reluctantly, scowling at the ground as she spoke. "I shall wait for you then at Vigil's Keep."

"Anders," Lhiannon said, turning to regard the mage as he picked a piece of lint off his robe and smoothed the rumpled fabric. "You are coming to Denerim with us."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, a look of genuine excitement crossing his face. "The last time I was in Denerim, a templar was hauling me out of the Chantry in chains. I really wanted to browse the marketplace, but the chains made it so cumbersome."

* * *

_A/N: My thinking with Loghain knowing about the Architect was that he had seen what Bregan had become at Kinloch Hold in "The Calling." Being the "need to know" kind of guy he is, I thought that he would have badgered Maric about Bregan and what happened to the Grey Wardens in the Deep Roads until Maric finally gave in and told him. In the battle of stubborn mules, I think Loghain wins almost every time. :) Since Maric wanted to convince Loghain to go to Gwaren without raising his suspicions, Maric probably would have told Loghain anything just to get him out the door and on the road. _

_Lhiannon would know, of course, from her time at Kinloch Hold.  
_

_As always, thanks to everyone reading, alerting, favoriting (which totally isn't a word), and reviewing the story. I really appreciate it!  
_


	28. Her First Royal Court

Lhiannon and the Grey Wardens arrived in Denerim several days before court was to officially begin. The inns and manors were beginning to fill with nobles and their entourages from across Ferelden. The streets of the marketplace were brimming with vendors who came to take advantage of the swelling population and their money purses. Several tent cities had sprung up on the outskirts of the capital, the merchants hawking food and wares to those traveling about the city.

The Grey Wardens were beginning to have trouble maneuvering through the streets on their horses as many of the nobles and commoners recognized the Hero of River Dane, the Hero of Ferelden, or both. While Loghain was looking mostly annoyed with the whole affair, Lhiannon was fascinated. The last time she traveled through such a mass of people was during the parade after the coronation and defeat of the archdemon. This time, the citizens were mostly going about their business rather than focusing their complete attention on the passers by.

It took some extra time, but they finally reached the palace gates after leaving Anders, Nathaniel, and their excess equipment at the empty Grey Warden compound. Lhiannon had originally decided to stay at the compound, but Loghain would have nothing of it. He would secure accommodations for her at the palace as befitting her station as Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Hero of Ferelden. With the veiled threats against Lhiannon and rumors of a conspiracy circulating through the arling, Loghain felt it would be safer for her in the heavily guarded palace; she would also be under his watchful eye and personal protection. She would likely scoff at such a thing, but Loghain wanted to take no chances.

The palace chamberlain and several servants were waiting for them when they arrived at the gates. The servants took the saddlebags off Lhiannon and Loghain's horses and began to carry them toward the palace as stable boys led the horses away. They followed the chamberlain into the palace, where he led them to the King and Queen's private study and announced them. Both had been reading books as their guests arrived and placed them on the table between them as Lhiannon and Loghain entered the study. The chamberlain quietly bowed before retreating from the room, closing the door behind them.

"Father. Lhiannon. It's good to see you both," Anora said as she rose to her feet. She gave her father a hug and nodded to Lhiannon.

Alistair stepped forward and kissed Lhiannon on the cheek, then turned and stiffly nodded to Loghain. _It's a start, _Lhiannon thought, happy to see Alistair at least attempting civility with his father in law. "We're glad you were able to come early."

"Are you excited to see your first royal court, Lhiannon?" Anora asked.

"I am," Lhiannon nodded. "Loghain told me about his experiences at a royal court, but I couldn't wait to see it for myself. I'm sure it will be vastly different from what I observed in Gwaren and what I held in Amaranthine."

Anora laughed, the sound actually light and cheerful to Lhiannon's ears; the Queen appeared to be in high spirits today. "Then I'm surprised you came at all. Father hates court."

"'Hate' doesn't do it justice," Loghain remarked dryly.

"Well, there was one very important reason we wanted you to come early," Alistair began. He reached for Anora and pulled her close. Lhiannon's brow rose slightly; it certainly looked like whatever gulf existed between Alistair and Anora in the past, they had managed to bridge it. She was going to have to pull Alistair aside and find out for herself.

"Father," Anora began, "I am with child."

Lhiannon smiled and looked up at Loghain. She did not need their shared taint to feel the joy and relief surging through him. "Anora, my dear, that is wonderful news," he said, holding his hands out to her. She let Alistair's hand go and took Loghain's. He pulled her into his embrace, kissing the top of her head as he did so. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," Loghain continued, holding her close, his face buried in Anora's golden hair. _Eamon will not have this reason to meddle in the affairs of the Crown any longer, thank the Maker._

"I know," Anora said, looking up and smiling broadly at him.

"It's a miracle from the Maker," Alistair grinned, looking at Lhiannon. "We knew it would be difficult since I am a Grey Warden, but we had to try."

Lhiannon turned to Alistair, opening her arms to him. He stepped into them, laughing as he hugged her tightly. "Congratulations, daddy," Lhiannon giggled into his ear.

"Come," Alistair said to Lhiannon as he stepped away from her embrace, indicating the door behind them. "I know Anora would like to spend some time with her father. We haven't talked as friends for quite a while; our last meeting was a bit awkward."

Lhiannon and Loghain traded quick glances. "I _would_ like to spend a little time with Anora," Loghain conceded. "It is rare for us to spend time together these days." Lhiannon smiled at him in encouragement. "Of course."

"I shall return him to you at dinner," Anora said, smiling at the Commander. Lhiannon felt a small amount of surprise; Anora's smile looked genuine this time, rather than the practiced one she had used the last time she was in Denerim. Loghain was still slightly worried about the Queen's acceptance of his relationship with a woman her own age, but Anora seemed to be adjusting to the circumstances.

Alistair led Lhiannon out of the study, his guards falling into step behind them as they started down the hall. Alistair turned and waved them off, wanting to speak to his friend without the prying ears of curious soldiers. Disciplined in the military arts they may be, but they gossiped like teenage girls in their dormitories. They walked the halls of the palace, continuing to a small library near Alistair's office. He lit a fire in the fireplace there before settling on the sofa nearby. Lhiannon sat on the opposite end, her body turned toward Alistair and one leg settled beneath her.

"So," Alistair began, stretching his arm out to recline on the back of the sofa. "How have you been? How is Amaranthine?"

"I've been well. Busy, but well. I am slowly growing the ranks of the Grey Wardens. We're working on reestablishing trade routes…"

Alistair scoffed slightly, waving his hand in the air. "Yes, I read that in the reports your seneschal sent. I mean how are _you_, Lhiannon?"

Lhiannon glanced toward the fire for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I am well, Alistair. I was unsure of myself at first, becoming Commander of the Grey Wardens and Arlessa. One usually doesn't learn to be those things on the job, but I think I'm doing okay. I have excellent people around me that help me a great deal."

Alistair nodded, running his hands through his shoulder length hair; she found that it suited him far better than the closely cropped hair he had worn during their quest against the Blight. Lhiannon was very familiar with that particular gesture from the King and she felt a small amount of apprehension build within her; it was one he used in exasperation or discomfort. "And Loghain?" he asked cautiously.

_Ah, the real reason he wanted to speak to me alone_, Lhiannon thought. "We are well, Alistair." Silence fell between them for a moment, seeming to stretch out for hours before Lhiannon continued. "You know, when I lay in Fort Drakon, I wasn't completely unconscious."

A frown crossed Alistair's face and his brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"There was darkness all around me, Alistair," she began, gesturing slightly with her hands. "It was completely black. I couldn't hear or see anything. The only thing I did know was that I was in pain; excruciating physical and mental pain. I couldn't move; I couldn't scream." Alistair watched as she grimaced, fighting back tears as she spoke of her ordeal. "I thought I would go mad, being stuck between reality and the Fade. But then a light appeared."

"A light?" Alistair asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "What was it?"

"At the time, I didn't know. All I knew was that it was something different; it was like a beacon. I followed it and as I drew closer, it grew larger and I could _hear_ again."

Alistair leaned forward, enraptured by her story. "What did you hear, Lhiannon?"

"Voices," Lhiannon said, looking toward the fire and watching as the flames danced in the hearth. "I didn't know whose voices, but one in particular drew me. I know now that it was Loghain's voice. He was the light that led be back to this world from my prison of darkness. It was his will, his strength. His love. That was when I _knew_ I loved him."

"You really do love him," Alistair said, his words drawing Lhiannon's gaze from the fire. She nodded slowly at the King. "With all my heart, Alistair."

It was the King's turn to gaze into the fire, watching the flames dance in the hearth as Lhiannon sat on the sofa next to him. Lhiannon heard him sigh. "Then that makes two of us in love with Mac Tir's."

Lhiannon's eyes widened slightly, watching as a lopsided grin crossed the King's handsome face. Alistair turned back to Lhiannon, showing her the grin she had become so familiar with in recent years. "Don't look so shocked, Lhiannon. You were the one who told me to try and find common ground with Anora. It worked, far better than either of us thought." Alistair leaned back once more into the cushions of the couch, resting one arm on the back and gesturing with the other. "She's a Mac Tir though and has a number of traits that are definitely her father's. But past that she's kind and compassionate. We were surprised at how easily we fell for each other once we decided common ground was important."

Lhiannon chuckled, reaching over and taking Alistair's hand in hers. "I'm happy for you, Alistair."

"I promised Anora that I would do my best to get along with her father. That is likely a long road, but I will do my best to be civil toward him." The King paused, the lopsided grin playing across his face again. "Now, if you and Loghain ever get married, you'll be my mother in law. Ha! 'Mother'," Alistair laughed and then quickly ducked as Lhiannon threw one of the cushions from the sofa at him. They laughed at each other, the easy friendship between them mended with just a few words and a thrown cushion. As they laughed, they left the library to find their Mac Tirs and enjoy a hearty dinner.

* * *

The day of court dawned bright and sunny and as the hours went by, Lhiannon's anticipation grew. She had picked out a fine dress, by herself, from an upscale shop in Denerim's palace district the day before. It was a long, simple dress that was currently in fashion with the Ferelden nobility. It had a high collar, but was cut so that her shoulders were bared. The sleeves were long and hugged her arms; the fabric was such that it clung to her curves in all the right places. She left her hair unbound and the only jewelry she wore were the golden hoops in her ears. Once she finished dressing for the affair and gave herself a once over in the mirror, she went to Loghain's chambers to wait for him.

Loghain was dressed in fine nobleman's clothes rather than his plate armor; high black boots with dark pants tucked inside and a tunic of crimson with silver trim. He looked distinctly uncomfortable in his fine clothes, which Lhiannon found endlessly amusing. That naturally rankled Loghain and she had taken full advantage of his discomfort. He occasionally tugged at the collar of his tunic, as if it were scratchy or a bit too snug.

"This is so different for you," she said, running her hands down the front of his tunic, feeling the richness of the fabric beneath her palms. "You don't even look like yourself. You actually do look like a Teyrn," she giggled at him. "I do like it however. Very handsome. Perhaps I should have you dress this way at Vigil's Keep."

"Insolent child," he scowled at her, his hands moving to his temples to begin braiding the small locks of hair. The look on his face made Lhiannon giggle even harder and he rolled his eyes at her. "Maker help me," he sighed, a corner of his mouth twitching as he fought to keep a grin from spreading on his face and encouraging further teasing from her. Reaching up, she brushed his hands away from his temples and began braiding his hair, enjoying the softness against her fingers. He handed her a small band to secure it when she was finished before moving to the other temple to create the matching braid. When she finished it, she ran her fingers through his hair to straighten it before placing her hands on either side of his face, reaching up and kissing him softly. His scowl melted away as her lips captured his.

"You know the only thing I'm looking forward to here is seeing the look on Eamon's face when Anora and Alistair announce that they are expecting a child, Clearly, Anora wasn't the problem between her and Cailan. By the Maker, Alistair is a Grey Warden and he managed to quicken Anora in only a few months," Loghain said, his hands finding the curve of Lhiannon's waist and settling there for a moment as he leaned in and kissed her forehead. He rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her close for the few moments they had before having to leave for the great hall.

"Then let's go watch his reaction," she told him, taking Loghain's hand and leading him to the door. He pulled her to a stop before she opened the door, placing his free hand on the side of her face, holding it gently as he gazed into her dark eyes. "I love you, Lhiannon."

"And I love you, my dear Loghain," Lhiannon said, placing her hand over his for a moment before leading him out the door and into the hall.

They had only traveled a short distance from Loghain's chambers when they rounded a corner and stood face to face with the new Teyrn of Highever, Fergus Cousland. His eyes narrowed as he saw Loghain and the Hero of Ferelden before him. Fergus suddenly rushed forward, grabbing Loghain by the shoulders and spinning him roughly into the wall. Though Loghain was taller and more solidly built than Fergus, the young Teyrn had the advantage of youth and determination on his side. Lhiannon watched in mute shock as Fergus snarled at Loghain, whose face held an angry scowl of its own. Loghain, however, made no move to shove Fergus away.

"You son of a bitch. How dare you show your face here?" Fergus snarled.

Loghain glared at him, the venom in his voice apparant. "The Queen bid me come, Cousland. As I am Teyrn of Gwaren, it is my place to do so."

"Teyrn of Gwaren," Fergus spat, his hands still on Loghain's shoulders and holding him to the wall. "The Queen made an egregious error appointing a traitor such as you Teyrn again. You deserve no such honor after what you did to my family."

Lhiannon cautiously stepped forward, seeking to intervene. Loghain turned to her, shaking his head. "No, Lhiannon. Stay out of this." He turned his gaze back to Fergus, willing his face to calm. "I did not order the execution of your family, Cousland."

"A likely story. You wanted your pet dog Howe to get my father out of the way so that you had no opposition to your usurping of the throne." Fergus glared at Loghain, his eyes narrowing. "You're no better than the bloody _Orlesians_."

Lhiannon watched as Loghain's own eyes narrowed and his fists balled up at his sides. Lhiannon made move to cast a paralysis spell if the two men came to blows. Hurling such an insult at Loghain could rapidly escalate the situation. Loghain, however, did not take the bait laid down by Fergus.

"I ordered Howe to speak to your father. He was your father's friend and therefore his words would have held more weight than mine," Loghain said, his voice cold and even. "I wanted him to speak to Bryce and gain his support. I did not want, or order him, to slaughter your family and seize your lands." Loghain paused for a moment, waiting for his words to sink in. "Howe was so depraved he even tried to convince me to murder _my own daughter_ and pin the atrocity on Eamon Guerein."

As Lhiannon watched, a bit of the fire died from Fergus Cousland's eyes, to be replaced by a wary disbelief. He looked at Loghain suspiciously. "How do I know you're not just trying to pin your crimes on a dead man who cannot refute your claims?"

"You speak truly," Loghain continued. "I committed some repugnant acts during the civil war; that I do not deny. However, the murder of your family was not one of the acts I ordered." Loghain paused, looking down at Fergus with his cold stare. "You were at your father's side on more than one occasion when I visited Highever to conduct the business of the Crown with him. We may not have been friends, but I respected your father a great deal. I wanted his support. Howe was an idiot and a fool who let his greed blind him to all else."

"You _were_ always brutally honest with my father in the past; I do know that for certain," Fergus conceded, removing his hands from Loghain's shoulders. Lhiannon watched as Loghain began to straighten out his slightly rumpled tunic before turning his gaze back to the young Teyrn.

Fergus turned his attention to Lhiannon, looking at her calmly. "And what of you, Hero of Ferelden? You were the one that killed Rendon Howe; did he say anything to you about my family?"

"The only thing he said to me was that he deserved more," Lhiannon said. "I'm sorry that I can't tell you more than that, Your Grace."

"And did you support the Queen when she named Loghain Teyrn of Gwaren again?" Fergus asked, his eyes locked onto Lhiannon's. She nodded solemnly. "I did. I knew Her Majesty's reasons for it and I agreed. Teyrn Loghain did question her decision at the time, Your Grace, but the Queen was insistent."

Fergus looked down at the ground and for a brief moment, none of them spoke. The young Teyrn turned his attention back to Lhiannon. "You are an honorable sort, My Lady. You have done much to preserve and protect Ferelden and your word will mean a great deal among the nobility, whether you realize it or not. If you support the Teyrn, than I shall as well, if only for the stability of Ferelden in the days to come."

Fergus suddenly turned to Loghain again, his eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly. He pointed an accusing finger at the elder Teyrn. "Know this, Loghain Mac Tir: if you decide to turn traitor again, I will see to it your head decorates the ramparts of Castle Cousland." Teyrn Fergus turned and walked away, leaving Loghain and Lhiannon behind as he resumed his course to the great hall, the sounds of the gathering nobility growing louder as the moments passed.

* * *

The great hall in the palace of Denerim was brightly lit, the wall sconces giving off a warm, welcoming glow to the assembled nobility. Lhiannon saw that the sword she had used to kill the archdemon, Loghain's silverite sword that he trained her with, hung on the wall between the King and Queen's thrones. Tapestries had been hung on the walls and there was a sense of excitement in the air. Tables had been set throughout the middle of the room for dining while other tables were against the walls, overflowing with food and drink. This was the first court of King Alistair and Queen Anora, the first royal court after the defeat of the archdemon. The food and ale were flowing briskly.

Loghain was seated at the table nearest to the dais where Alistair and Anora were. Near him sat the new Teyrn of Highever. Both were to take their public oaths of fealty tonight. Lhiannon was seated a few tables away; she would also be taking her public oath as the Arlessa of Amaranthine. Though they had already taken their oaths privately with the Queen in the days following the fall of the archdemon, she had insisted on Lhiannon and Loghain taking them again publicly at court; what the Queen wanted, the Queen most certainly got.

When the King and Queen had finished their meal, Alistair stood and raised his hand to command the attention of the room. Once the conversation in the room had hushed, a soldier stepped forward and thumped a ceremonial staff on the floor, producing a scroll and proclaiming open this the first court of King Alistair Theirin and Queen Anora Mac Tir Theirin. After the opening rite, Alistair looked down at both Loghain and Fergus Cousland.

"Loghain Mac Tir and Fergus Cousland, step forward."

Both men came forward and bent on one knee before the thrones, heads bowed. Alistair pulled the ceremonial sword from the scabbard belted to his waist and tapped each one on the shoulders with the tip. He asked for their loyalty toward the Crown and toward those whom they would now protect as Teyrns of Ferelden. Loghain and Fergus in turn swore their service and pledged to protect those whom they served. Once their oaths were completed, Alistair officially named them Teyrns of Ferelden before the gathered nobles. Silence filled the room.

"Lhiannon Amell, step forward."

As Lhiannon walked toward the dais, Loghain and Fergus stepped aside so she would stand between them. Lhiannon also bent down on one knee, which was tricky in her long dress, and bowed her head. Alistair tapped her shoulders and asked for her loyalty to the Crown and those whom she would now protect as Arlessa of Amaranthine. She swore her oath, then stood and turned to face the crowd. A tense hush had descended on the gathered nobles. Lhiannon could feel the apprehension building until finally one of the nobles stood up.

"You make Loghain a Teyrn again after what he has done?" the Bann shouted indignantly, pointing an accusing finger at Loghain. "You cheapen us all by making that traitor a Teyrn!" Shouts erupted from within the nobility, both agreeing with what the Bann had said and vehement arguments in Loghain's favor. "He needs to be hanged, not given the teyrnir of Gwaren!" another noble shouted, eliciting more roars of approval and anger. Alistair and Anora both held up their hands to command silence, but the arguments only became more heated, the sounds of many voices shouting reaching a deafening crescendo. Lhiannon turned to look at Loghain and saw the anger written in the hard expression on his face; she did not need to feel it in the taint. Fergus stood on her other side, his face unreadable as he watched the chaos unfold.

Lhiannon decided that she needed to do something to stop this madness before the situation deteriorated any further. She calmly walked out to the middle of the room and chanted softly, calling forth a small ball of light that she floated above her toward the ceiling. With a wave of her hand, a small peal of thunder echoed through the room and the ball exploded silently in the air, showering small sparks down toward the tables. The nobles stopped and stared at her; the looks they gave her ranged from curious to indignant.

"For those of you who did not catch who I am, my name is Lhiannon Amell. I am the Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden. I'm also known as the Hero of Ferelden. I was the Grey Warden that killed the archdemon atop Fort Drakon several months ago." She paused and watched as a number of the nobles nodded their heads at her. She began to walk slowly among the tables, gesturing with her hands as she did so.

"A year ago, I was on a quest to gather the armies of Ferelden to stop the Blight. We were in the midst of a civil war-myself and His Majesty on one side and Teyrn Loghain on the other. I believe the Teyrn and the King would agree with me when I say that we were doing everything possible to eliminate the perceived threat of the other. We were all moving toward an unavoidable confrontation, which happened at the Landsmeet. Many of you were there."

Lhiannon paused for a moment, continuing to walk among the nobles. Loghain watched her and had to keep a wry grin off his face. She was speaking with the certainty and confidence she had used at that very Landsmeet she was referring to. When she spoke that way, she could move mountains; he would know, as he was the victim of such confidence at that time. He could see the nobles becoming captivated with what she was saying, falling for her charm without even realizing it.

"When the Teyrn and I met at the Landsmeet, we fought in an honorable duel to settle the differences between us. I defeated him in that duel and brought an end to the civil war. There were calls for the Teyrn's head—the most vehement came from His Majesty himself, if you will recall. But I chose a different path. I showed him mercy and conscripted him into the Grey Wardens. We were too few and needed every Grey Warden we could find to help defeat the Blight. It was the perfect way for him to atone for what had happened before.

"The Teyrn and I did not see eye to eye on many things, but we both had the same goals in sight: end the Blight. Save Ferelden. And together, with our other companions, we stopped the Blight. _Together." _ She pounded her fist on the top of a nearby table for emphasis.

Lhiannon was now standing in the center of the room, surrounded by the enraptured nobles. None of them had spoken a word for several minutes; she had them all mesmerized with her story. She quickly turned and pointed directly at Loghain, her voice rising strong to fill the entire room. "The Teyrn was at my side while we fought the darkspawn in the wilderness. He was at my side when we gathered the armies at Redcliffe and began our march to Denerim. He was at my side when we fought the darkspawn masses here in the city and fought our way to the top of Fort Drakon." She paused once again, pointing at the sword that hung on the wall between the thrones, her voice still strong. "And he was at my side when I took that very sword on the wall, _his sword,_ and drove it into the archdemon's skull."

Loghain watched as she stopped speaking, lowering her arm to her side. She bowed her head, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, a tear fell from one, rolling slowly down her cheek. She began to speak, her voice more quiet and solemn this time.

"The Teyrn was at my side when the blow from the archdemon's death threw me into the rubble atop the fort, breaking my already terribly injured body. He carried my broken body into Fort Drakon to try and save me." Her voice began to break and she took a deep breath before she continued. "He was at my side while I lay unconscious for six days, with only the Maker knowing if I would survive. And he was at my side when I woke up."

Loghain looked into the crowd of nobles and saw many had their heads down now, lost in their own thoughts and memories. He watched as Lhiannon came and stood before him, looking into his icy blue eyes. She held his gaze for a moment before she turned back toward the nobles.

"The point is, if it weren't for the Teyrn, I would not be standing here before you today. I dare say that without the Teyrn, few of us would be here. I could not have defeated the archdemon and ended the Blight without his help; the Blight would have raged unchecked, destroying all of Ferelden, and threatening all of Thedas. In my judgment, he has atoned for the crimes he committed many times over.

"I ask all of you; let us put aside the differences between us, as the Teyrn and I have done. As the Teyrn and His Majesty have done. We need to stand together to make Ferelden strong again. We need to stand together to rebuild our homes and livelihoods.

"As the Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden, the Teyrn has my unwavering support."

There was a pause where no one spoke. After a moment, a Bann stood up near the middle of the room and sheepishly regarded Lhiannon. "Begging your pardon, My Lady, but you are not the most impartial person to be speaking of the Teyrn. It's widely known that you and he have shared a bed recently." A murmur went through the gathered nobles.

Lhiannon felt Loghain's anger nearly boil over through the taint. She held up a hand to him and he grudgingly held his tongue. Lhiannon looked at the Bann, her eyes narrowing and her own anger rising. "I normally would not speak of such things in public, because who I share my bed with is none of your damn business. However, I will say only this: had we not put our differences aside and worked together to turn back the Blight, I assure you, sharing a bed would _never_ have happened. We put aside our differences for the good of Ferelden. So must we all. This is not the time to squabble like unruly children."

"But how can you say that the Teyrn won't try to usurp the throne again?" the Bann asked.

It was now Anora's turn to be angry at this line of questioning toward the Arlessa. She stood and regarded the Bann with her own cold blue eyes. She stepped off the dais and stood next to Lhiannon, never taking her eyes off the Bann. "You forget yourself," she barked angrily at the Bann, who flinched under the Queen's sharp gaze and even sharper tongue.

Loghain gave small start at Anora's statement and to suppress another smile. That was exactly what he told a similar gathering over thirty years ago at Maric's first court in Gwaren. The nobles there had been bickering among themselves as well, some of them advocating turning Maric in to the usurper to save their own traitorous hides.

"It was _my_ decision to reinstate my father's title as Teyrn of Gwaren, as is my right as Queen. Ferelden had just turned back a Blight and the nation was extremely fragile. I appointed him Teyrn to impart stability in our recovering nation. I can assure you that my father will not threaten the Crown, especially now that the line of Calenhad will continue."

Silence hung in the air. Lhiannon watched as Arl Eamon stood from his position near the side of the room, a questioning look on his face. She could feel a sort of smug satisfaction coming through the taint from Loghain. _He must love this,_ Lhiannon thought.

"Your Majesty, are you saying there is an heir to the throne?" Eamon asked.

Anora had returned to Alistair's side, taking his hand in hers and regarding Eamon with a hard look. "The blood of the Theirin and Mac Tir lines has been united. An heir is coming to continue the line of Calenhad."

"That is the main reason we called this court," Alistair said, looking at Anora. "Of course there are other issues to contend with, but we wanted to make this announcement in front of you all. We are expecting a child, one who will pick up the sword of Calenhad as the future of Ferelden."

* * *

The procedures of court continued for the next few hours, with both Anora and Alistair speaking about their future plans for Ferelden. The gathered nobles discussed plans for the army and Grey Wardens; a number of settlements were ready to welcome the Grey Wardens with open arms, while others were more hesitant. They also discussed securing the borders to make sure other nations did not take advantage of Ferelden's Blight; the nobles in the borderlands were especially happy to hear that news. As the business of court wound down, the nobles began to mingle amongst themselves. Alistair and Anora came down from their thrones and began to circulate among the guests.

Loghain searched the crowd for Lhiannon and finally found her surrounded by several lords and banns that were peppering her with questions regarding the battle with the archdemon. Loghain could feel a flash of annoyance through the taint; she probably told that story a dozen times tonight and she was becoming weary with it. He could see that she was trying to keep her face from betraying her weariness. He worked his way over to her and placed his hand on the small of her back, his gaze falling on each person gathered around her. It did not take long for the nobles to suddenly find themselves interested in the other parties around them. Loghain had that effect on people and often used it to his advantage.

"Thank you," Lhiannon whispered to him when they were finally alone. "I didn't know how I was going to get away from them without stepping on their toes."

Loghain scoffed. "They know not to bother trying to curry favor with me."

"Why don't we go find Anders and Nathaniel at the Warden compound? We can go to one of the taverns here in the Palace District just to get away from all this for a while," Lhiannon suggested. While Loghain was not entirely enamored with the idea of a tavern, getting away from the nobles sounded like an excellent idea.

"Tiring of the royal court already?" he asked her, a smirk on his face. She scoffed lightly as he guided her toward the door. "I can see where you find it tiresome," she admitted.

* * *

The tavern was small but finely decorated with an efficient wait staff and food of the highest quality. The rooms the tavern had available for rent were furnished with plush beds; thick feather filled mattresses on them rather than the thin mattresses of straw found in other establishments. This was a tavern frequented by the nobility and palace guard in Denerim and as such did not have the raucous air of taverns in the other districts of the capital city.

"I understand you gave quite the impassioned speech to the nobles today," Anders said to Lhiannon as they took their chairs around the table in the small tavern. Bann Teagan had spotted Lhiannon and Loghain preparing to leave the castle and asked to join them, himself anxious to put the trivialities and formalities of the royal court behind him, for a short time at least.

"She did indeed," Teagan agreed, turning his chair backwards and settling himself on it, arms resting on the back of it as he sat across from Lhiannon. Loghain was at her right, Nathaniel her left, and Anders between him and Teagan. "There was hardly an unmoved noble in the audience chamber when she was done."

Lhiannon felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. "I only spoke the truth."

"And a powerful tool and weapon the truth can be," Teagan said, smiling at her. "If any of the nobles doubted your abilities or sincerity before, they surely know better now. Amaranthine is truly blessed."

A server brought a basket of bread to their table, setting it in the middle before scurrying off again. Nathaniel grabbed a piece of bread out of the basket, taking a large bite out of it. "Nobles are a fickle bunch," he said between bites. "You may have had them enamored today, but they'll be at your back tomorrow trying to land their daggers in it."

"I don't doubt it," Lhiannon agreed, taking a piece of bread for herself. She watched as Teagan waved to the server, asking for a round of ale for them.

"How was the crowd toward you, Loghain?" Anders asked, his brows raised in questioning. "Green with envy?"

Loghain scoffed. "I could not care less what they think of me." The four others at the table shared a snicker at Loghain's predictable observation.

The server arrived with a tray of tankards, filled to the top with foaming ale. He set a tankard in front of each person at the table before hurrying off toward the back of the tavern. The barkeep motioned for him to bring several bottles of liquor from the cellar. The server quickly disappeared down the cellar steps at a run.

Lhiannon was still snickering when she picked up her tankard and took a long drink of the beverage. She thought she tasted something strange, maybe soap from when the tankard was washed. There was nothing she hated more than a poorly rinsed tankard.

A moment after she swallowed she began to feel heat building in her chest. It was as if she had swallowed liquid fire. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she brought her hand to her chest. As she did, she felt her throat begin to constrict and she took a deep, wheezing breath. Her eyes went wide as she felt her airway constrict. Her hands began to shake, slowly at first and then more rapidly.

She turned and stared wide-eyed at Loghain, hoping to catch his attention as she was finding it more and more difficult to breathe and control the shaking in her hands. He turned to her and did a double take as he realized something was terribly wrong.

Lhiannon heard him speak her name, but it sounded like it was coming from miles away. She locked her eyes on his, shifted them to the tankard and back to Loghain again. His brows furrowed and she repeated the gesture, noticing for the first time that her vision was turning gray and narrowing. She felt herself topple out of her chair, violent convulsions gripping her body that she was powerless to stop. Pain exploded throughout her head as it struck the floor, unhindered. Her body jerked and convulsed rapidly on the floor, her eyes rolling in her sockets. As the grayness in her vision grew, she saw Anders leaning over her, shock on his face.

_Oh, not good,_ she thought as her vision went from gray to black.

* * *

_A/N: I'll try to get the next chapter up before Christmas...it will be a crazy week though. Thank goodness that chapter is about 90% done. ;)_

_A Merry Christmas to everyone! Thank you all for your kind comments and the time you have spent with me while I spin this tale. It means a lot!  
_


	29. Raising the Stakes

Loghain had just wrapped his hand around the tankard to take a drink of ale when he turned toward Lhiannon. Her eyes had gone wide and were nearly bugging out of her head. Her skin was turning a bright red, the hand at her chest starting to shake violently. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"Lhiannon?"

He watched her look down at her tankard, then back up to him. She repeated the gesture before he realized what was happening. Her beverage had been tampered with. He watched helplessly as she began to tumble toward the floor, his grasping hand too late to catch her. With a loud thud, her head hit the floor and Loghain watched as she began to convulse violently, her eyes rolling unfocused. He stood, pointing at the barkeep.

"Bolt the door! Anders! Tend to the Commander," he bellowed, launching himself from his chair and moving toward the door as the nearby nobles began to scamper out of his way. The chair clattered noisily as it turned over on its back. "No one leaves! Find the server that brought us our drinks!" He pointed to two palace guards who were sitting near the door, taking a meal on their dinner break. "Guard this door. No one leaves without my saying so!"

"Yes, Your Grace!" The guards were immediately on their feet, one running the bolt on the door while the other stood guard, asking the concerned and startled patrons to remain calm and return to their seats.

Loghain turned toward the barkeep, moving so quickly that the man was taken aback by the large Teyrn's speed. "Where did your server go?"

The barkeep looked at the daunting Teyrn nervously. "I-I sent him to the cellar for some bottles of liquor, Your Grace." Loghain pulled his hunting knife from his dress boot before turning and racing through the kitchens toward the cellar door. His feet could be heard pounding down the stairs, followed by angry shouts and the sounds of fighting.

By this time, Teagan had jumped up from his chair with his own dagger in hand, running through the tavern. "I'll cover the back door!" Nathaniel grabbed Lhiannon's tankard and took a sip, swishing the contents in his mouth before spitting it out. A slight grimace crossed his face. "Poisoned," he spat, running toward the barkeep. "Where are your herbal sundries? I need to make an antidote." The barkeep paused, frozen in place by the spectacle unfolding in front of him and trying to regain his nerves after the imposing Teyrn's passage. Nathaniel grabbed him by the shoulders. "Maker's breath, man! I need to make an antidote or she'll die right here and then _you _can explain it to the Teyrn!" That snapped the barkeep out of his trance and he led Nathaniel to the kitchen area.

Anders had left his chair and knelt down next to Lhiannon as Loghain moved toward the door and Nathaniel rushed to the barkeep. She was convulsing violently; red, foamy blood beginning to trickle out of her mouth. He put his hands on Lhiannon's stomach, chanting a healing spell as her body bucked and twitched beneath them. After a moment, he saw that the spell was not counteracting the effects of the poison. Anders switched the chant, casting a powerful healing spell. In ordinary circumstances, the spell would have healed the most serious of wounds in mere seconds; in this situation, it could barely keep up with the poison racing through her body. "Nate," he shouted warily. "Get me an antidote or more lyrium. This poison is moving fast. I can hardly stay ahead of it." He pulled a lyrium vial out of his pocket and drained it, his throat working rapidly to swallow the liquid. Tossing the bottle aside, he began chanting again.

Nathaniel was suddenly at his side, crushing a number of ingredients into a small cup and mixing in drops of water to create a paste. "Turn her onto her side," he said to Anders. "We need to make sure she isn't choking on the blood." They gently pulled Lhiannon onto her side, watching as a stream of blood came from her mouth. Nathaniel pulled a cloth off an adjacent table and wiped Lhiannon's face with it, removing what blood he could. He then picked up the cup containing the paste of herbs and water, gently pulling Lhiannon's bottom lip out and rubbing a small amount of the paste into the place where her lip and jaw met.

Nathaniel turned to Anders. "This is an antidote I made for the poison. Once it begins to stabilize her, I'll mix this into a liquid. We need to get as much of it into her as possible."

Anders nodded, continuing to heal Lhiannon and draining the lyrium vials Nathaniel handed to him. It took a number of minutes but eventually he felt that his spells were making progress; Lhiannon's shaking had begun to diminish to just occasional jitters and her breathing became more regular and even. "It's working," Anders said during pauses in his chant. "I'm able to heal her a little faster than the poison can act."

"It will still be some time before the antidote completely counteracts the poison," Nathaniel explained. "However, we should be able to move her out of here soon."

They heard angry shouts and the pounding of feet on the cellar stairs. A moment later Loghain appeared in the main dining area, the server pinned to his chest with Loghain's dagger at his throat. Both men had disheveled hair and clothing, indicating that they had fought hand to hand before Loghain subdued the server. The server would be sporting a nasty black eye before long, while Loghain's hand was swollen and bleeding from a number of small cuts.

"Teagan!" he shouted, throwing the server on the floor and pinning him with a knee to his chest and dagger to the throat. "If you move, fool, I'll slice you open right here. You'll go to the Maker in pieces." The guards moved forward from the door to flank Loghain and the server.

Teagan arrived from the back door at a run, stopping when he saw Loghain pinning the servant to the ground. He glanced over to where Anders and Nathaniel were working on Lhiannon, a concerned frown crossing his face. "Loghain, what can I do?"

"Get me something to bind him with. He was trying to crawl out of a window in the cellar when I arrived." Loghain turned to look up at the guards. "You will accompany me and Bann Teagan to Fort Drakon with the prisoner." Teagan had pulled a tablecloth from under the bar, cutting it into strips with his knife, which he handed to Loghain. Within moments, Loghain had the prisoner securely bound and on his feet. The guards came forward and grabbed the server's arms, preparing to accompany the Teyrn and Bann to the fort. Loghain and Teagan hurried over to where Nathaniel and Anders were working on Lhiannon. Loghain crouched down, placing a hand on her forehead.

"How is she?" Teagan asked, grave concern in his voice.

"Stabilizing. We need to get her out of here," Nathaniel said as Anders continued his chanting. Anders turned to Loghain and nodded, never breaking the rhythm of the chant. Loghain saw that the mage's skin was beginning to grow pale and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin.

Loghain thought about Nathaniel's words for a moment before standing. "Take her to my chambers at the palace; the palace is the most secure place in the city other than Fort Drakon, especially with the royal court in session. I'll meet you there once the perpetrator is secure at Fort Drakon."

Nathaniel nodded, gently picking Lhiannon up off the floor. "We'll meet you at the palace then."

* * *

The wing of the palace containing Loghain's chambers was quiet as he arrived not long after Anders and Nathaniel got Lhiannon settled. Loghain nodded a greeting to the heavily armored guards stationed at his door. _Thank the Maker the King posted extra guards in the palace for court. _Nathaniel was sitting on his sofa, leafing through a book he found on one of the bookshelves. He looked up and nodded a greeting as Loghain entered.

"How is Lhiannon?" Loghain asked wearily, bolting the door behind him.

"We have her stable. Besides the antidote, I have given her a draught which will make her sleep heavily for awhile; sleep is the best medicine for her right now." Nathaniel rose from his chair, moving toward the door to the bedchamber beyond. "Come, Loghain. We need to talk." Loghain eyed Nathaniel warily, but followed. As he entered his bedchamber, he saw Lhiannon lying on his bed, curled up into a ball and sleeping heavily as Nathaniel had said she would be. Anders was seated in a chair next to the bed, also leafing through a book. He looked up as Loghain and Nathaniel came in. Loghain saw the dark circles under the mage's eyes and heard the weariness in his voice.

"I have her stabilized. Nathaniel says the antidote will take some time to fully integrate into her system. I'll have to heal her occasionally, but she will recover. It may be a day or two though before she's feeling like herself." Anders leaned over the bed and placed a hand on Lhiannon's shoulder, closing his eyes in concentration for a moment before looking back at Loghain. "She's sleeping soundly now."

"Do you know what poisoned her?" Loghain asked.

Nathaniel nodded. "It's called _secouant la mort_. Roughly translated, it means "shaking death". It should have killed her, but Anders' skills saved her life." He paused and noticed a dark look crossing Loghain's face.

"That name is Orlesian," he growled.

"You speak Orlesian?" Anders asked, surprise in his voice. Teyrn Loghain was the last person he thought would know the Orlesian language, given his well known hatred of most everything Orlesian.

Loghain scowled as he nodded. "You don't live for nearly half your life under an oppressor's boot without picking up their language. I won't sully my mouth by speaking it, however."

Nathaniel nodded. "You're right, Loghain. It is Orlesian. It's an expensive poison commonly used by imperial assassins there; it's sufficiently showy for their 'Grand Game'. When those of the imperial court want to poison a rival, they want _everyone _to know it was an expensive poison. It isn't often found outside Orlais."

"I have a question," Anders said, raising his hand in the air. "How was it you could identify it, Nate? Shouldn't that mouthful you took affect you too? Especially if it was as potent as you say it was?"

Nathaniel grinned. "Part of learning about poisons means developing a resistance to them. I learned to identify them by smell, look, and taste. I just tasted it and spit it out; I can resist that small amount. Although with that particular poison, I'll probably have a nasty stomach ache for a couple of days."

"We need to try and trace the poison back to the source, if we can," Loghain said. "It's vital that we apprehend the supplier and determine how the poison came into the prisoner's possession."

Anders turned to Loghain. "Has the server said anything to you?"

Loghain shook his head. "No, not yet. I'll be returning to Fort Drakon shortly to interrogate him again. If she died, I would have immediately throttled the bloody bastard with my bare hands." He looked at Lhiannon, watching her sleep for a moment. "Thank you both for helping her. I shall not soon forget it," he said quietly, receiving acknowledging nods from both Wardens.

The three of them sat in silence for several moments, pondering what move they should make next. "How do we know his associates won't send someone to kill him before you get the chance to interrogate him?" Nathaniel asked.

"I don't, which is why I'm going back to the fort." Loghain paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to will his pounding headache away. Anders saw Loghain's grimace and sent a wave of healing magic to him; Loghain nodded appreciatively. "Send one of the messaging birds to Varel at Vigil's Keep. Tell him an attempt was made on the Commander's life and that he is to detain anyone that he suspects may be involved there." He moved toward his armor rack, pulling a longshirt and trousers from the drawer next to it. He turned back to Nathaniel and Anders. "Now, please get out."

"Come on, Nate. I can take a hint," Anders groused, rolling his eyes and pulling the door shut behind them as they left.

Loghain set his clothes down at the foot of the bed as he sat down next to Lhiannon. In their haste to bring her back to the castle and get her settled, they had put her directly to bed, still wearing the fine dress she wore to the proceedings earlier that day. It was dirtied from the tavern floor and there were splatters of blood on it from where she bled out of her mouth. Loghain rose and went to the door, bidding one of the soldiers to bring him a bucket of warm water from the kitchens. As the soldier hurried off, Loghain returned to his bedchamber, pulling one of his own longshirts out of a drawer. It would only cover part of her body, but it would be better than the dirty, bloody clothing she was wearing now.

The soldier returned with the warm water as Loghain was preparing to settle Lhiannon back into the bed after dressing her in clean clothing. As he was pulling his longshirt over her head, Loghain noticed the scars she received from their encounter with the Architect; the scars on her arms and one small one on her abdomen. They had faded to near invisibility, thanks to the healing spells Anders had cast on her to combat the poison. The thought of their imprisonment and questions about what was done to them in the mine made him scowl; if he had the chance, he would make the Architect answer for what it had done. Loghain picked up a cloth from his stone tub and dipped it into the water, wringing it out before gingerly wiping the dried blood of Lhiannon's face and neck.

When he finished cleaning Lhiannon, Loghain began to change from his fine clothes into his more comfortable, and more normal, longshirt and leather trousers. He donned the padded underclothes and then the Grey Warden armor on top, all the while watching Lhiannon for any signs of stirring. Other than the deep rise and fall of her chest, she did not stir. She seemed to be still sleeping soundly and peacefully, which made Loghain feel somewhat better. He held his gauntlets in one hand as he returned to the bed, lightly brushing her cheek with his lips before he turned to leave. "Sleep well, love. I shall soon return."

* * *

Loghain's armored footsteps echoed through the familiar halls of Fort Drakon, heading toward the maximum security cellblock. He was pleased to see a number of extra guards on duty as he neared the cell where the perpetrator was being held. He passed through the outer door of the cellblock, nodding at the two guards that had accompanied him and Teagan from the tavern in the Palace District. Sitting on a stool just outside the cell was a weary looking Teagan, still dressed in his fine clothing. He turned when he heard Loghain pass through the door and shut it behind him. Standing, Teagan nodded to Loghain. "Your Grace."

Loghain waved the title off. "Please, Teagan, dispense with the formalities. Has the prisoner said anything?"

"Our friend has been rather quiet," Teagan began, looking at the scowling prisoner before returning his gaze to Loghain. "Not very cooperative, considering the trouble he is in."

Loghain scowled, scoffing as he turned his back on the prisoner and began to pace in the cellblock. Looking back, allowing Lhiannon to talk him into going the tavern, even with it being in the heavily guarded Palace District, was a foolish decision. Someone who wanted her dead had come so very close to accomplishing it through this fool. The trip to the tavern had nearly gotten her killed and he was unsure whom he was becoming angrier with: her for suggesting the tavern, or himself for allowing it.

"Teagan," Loghain called out, beckoning the Bann to him so the prisoner could not eavesdrop. "Go summon the King. Ask him to come here so that I can speak to him; I'm certain that he now knows something has happened. Then I want you to get some rest; I want either your or I watching this fool at all times until a decision is made on what to do with him."

"Do you suspect that someone may want to eliminate him before we can get useful information from him?" Teagan asked, glancing toward the scowling prisoner.

"It would not surprise me, especially since the Commander's enemies appear to have escalated matters against her," Loghain said quietly. "The King needs to know."

Teagan nodded before turning toward the door. "I shall summon him for you Loghain."

As Teagan quietly closed the door behind him, Loghain returned his watchful eye to the prisoner, crossing his arms over his breastplate and staring intently at him until the prisoner's gaze found something else to do. "You would do well to confess what you know now. The longer you wait, the harder things will be for you. Who sent you?" The prisoner merely scoffed and sat on his bunk, pointedly ignoring the heavily armored Teyrn. Loghain repeated the question, but was met with a wall of silence.

It was not long before the sound of rushed footsteps coming from beyond the door drew Loghain's attention away from the cell. He turned to see the King enter with Teagan and several soldiers. Alistair had clearly left the palace in a hurry; he was still dressed in his formal attire but had taken a moment to replace his ceremonial sword with a real one. Alistair asked the soldiers to stand guard outside the door as he looked at Loghain, who had backed away from the cell and turned to regard the King.

"Lhiannon was _poisoned?_" Alistair asked incredulously.

"Yes," Loghain said, moving next to the King and speaking quietly. "There have been threats made against her recently and it seems the perpetrators have decided to raise the stakes."

"That would have been nice to know," Alistair growled at him. "I don't need assassins running amok in Denerim right now."

"If you can get this fool to talk, perhaps he will enlighten us," Loghain growled. "He has been uncooperative to this point."

* * *

Lhiannon's eyes flew open as she felt the bile quickly rising from her stomach. She pushed the covers off her, stumbling out of the bed and looking for an empty basin as her hand covered her mouth. She quickly recognized Loghain's chambers and turned toward the stone tub, finding the empty basin she was looking for. She stumbled over to it, leaning over and vomiting what contents of her stomach remained, feeling a clammy sweat break out over her entire body. As she heaved into the basin, she felt hands gently pulling her hair back and she gave a startled gasp.

"Easy now, Commander," Lhiannon heard from behind her. She turned her head to see Nathaniel out of the corner of her eye and weakly nodded her thanks. He gave her a small smile. She tried to return it, but the motion of moving her head set her stomach to roiling violently again. She turned back to the basin, her stomach clenching and trying to vomit what was no longer there. Lhiannon felt her sense of dignity fly out the window at both her sickly stomach and the lack of proper clothing. She saw that she wore only a longshirt of Loghain's and quickly thanked the Maker that she still had her smalls on.

"Can you help me back to bed?" she asked weakly after several minutes of dry heaving. She felt Nathaniel's strong arm around her waist, slowly turning her and half leading, half carrying her back to the bed. The pain in her stomach from so much retching kept her from standing completely straight. Groaning miserably, she crawled into the bed and Nathaniel pulled the covers up to her chin. "How are you feeling?"

Lhiannon shivered, scoffing lightly. "Terrible."

Nathaniel chuckled lightly at her. "You're going to feel that way for a couple of days, most likely. The antidote works, but it's going to make you rather sick. You also knocked your head on the floor pretty good. You should have seen the knot there."

"Can't Anders heal me?" she asked, running her fingers along her head and finding the tender spot that Nathaniel had referred to. She winced as she touched it.

"He did. A lot, actually," Nathaniel explained. "He has to rest himself. You can try healing yourself to at least keep the nausea at bay, but the antidote and poison still have to work their way out of your body."

"I don't think I can concentrate that hard right now," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose and squinting. Her head felt like something was trying to pound its way out of her skull. She opened her eyes and nodded. "Thank you, Nathaniel."

"You _can_ call me Nate, you know," he grinned at her.

"Hey! You're awake!"

Lhiannon's attention went to the door and found Anders standing there, propping himself up on the doorjamb and looking a little pale himself. "You quite nearly sucked the life out of me, Lhi. Could you not do that again?"

"I'll try, but I make no promises," she laughed weakly. "Where is Loghain? I see we are in his chambers."

"He's at Fort Drakon, watching over the server that brought you the poisoned ale. He wanted to make sure no one tried to come and kill him so he wouldn't talk. Bann Teagan is with him," Anders explained.

"How long has he been there?"

"Since we brought you here last night," Anders explained. "You slept through the night and most of the day today. Loghain came back last night long enough to check on you and change into his armor. He hasn't been back yet today."

Lhiannon sat up, her stomach roiling and head spinning. "Take me to get my armor at the Grey Warden compound, then to the Fort."

"Absolutely not!" "No!" Both Anders and Nathaniel spat out their objections. "You need to rest, Lhi." Anders pleaded. "We can send word to the fort that you're awake. You don't need to go there."

"_No_. Take me to the compound, then the Fort. That's not a request," she told them firmly, stepping out of the bed and grabbing a corner post for support as she stumbled and nearly fell. Anders sighed heavily and put a hand on her arm, the warm tickle of his magic flowing into Lhiannon.

"Loghain is right; you are quite stubborn," Nathaniel sighed.

"That's what I've been told on a number of occasions," she said, panting as she held the corner post and trying to center herself. She felt the clammy sweat breaking out all over her body again to go along with the rolling of her stomach. Lhiannon stood at the corner of the bed for several minutes, gathering what strength she could and trying to keep her stomach in its place. "Do you have lyrium flasks?" she asked Anders as she made her way toward the door, opening it to peek her head out and asking a passing servant to bring her a longshirt and trousers from her guest chambers.

"Yes," he said hesitantly. "I don't think I like the way this conversation is turning, Lhi."

Lhiannon turned and glared at him, fire in her eyes and hands on her hips. Anders sighed heavily and reached into his nearby pack, bringing out a flask and handing it to her.

"If Loghain asks, I'm going to tell him you forced me to do this," he murmured.

Lhiannon drained the flask, squeezing her eyes shut and willing her roiling stomach to keep the contents where they belonged. Her mana began to grow stronger as the liquid moved inside her.

* * *

Loghain remained in the maximum security cellblock of Fort Drakon through the night and into the next day, becoming more tired, hungry, and irritable as the hours passed. Nathaniel and Anders had sent word to him earlier saying Lhiannon was still sleeping; she had slept peacefully through the night and that had brought Loghain some comfort. He watched the prisoner with an eagle eye during his stay, refusing to leave him under the guard of anyone unless he or Teagan were with them. The server, Hallen, had hardly spoken to him nor answered any questions Loghain had put to him. He found himself becoming exponentially more irritated with each passing second. If Hallen did not start answering questions soon, Loghain would need to resort to more persuasive methods. The King would likely not be happy, but what the King did not know would not hurt him.

The sound of slowly shuffling footsteps beyond the door drew Loghain's attention. There were multiple sets, some of which sounded armored. He could sense the Grey Warden taint as it drew closer, expecting either Anders or Nathaniel to appear in the doorway. However, as the taint drew closer he could sense an intimately familiar presence, which brought a disapproving frown to his face. When the door opened, it was Lhiannon leading the way, dressed in her full suit of Grey Warden armor; Nathaniel and Anders were at her heels. While it hardly surprised Loghain that she would make her way here eventually, the fact that she was ignoring both Nathaniel's and Anders' orders to rest and recuperate annoyed him. _Stubborn woman._ He could see that she was still pale and a fine sheen of sweat stood out on her skin. He also observed the occasional blue ripple cross her skin; she had to be healed almost constantly to keep on her feet. His scowl deepened as she approached.

"Has he told you anything?" Lhiannon asked, slightly out of breath and glaring at the servant angrily.

"No," Loghain replied, his voice icy. He took hold of her arm as she passed by. "You should be resting, not traipsing about Denerim," he hissed into her ear.

Lhiannon waved off Loghain's admonishment and approached the cell, glaring at Hallen angrily. "You will tell me why you poisoned me and who had you do it."

Hallen looked at her, sitting silently yet defiantly in his cell, hands folded in his lap in a picture of serenity. He made no move to answer or register any acknowledgement of her question. Lhiannon pulled Spellweaver from her scabbard, holding it at her side. The hiss of metal on metal caused Hallen's eyes to grow wide, a crack forming in his stoic demeanor.

"You will tell me what I want to know or I will pull the information out of your pathetic skull!" she shouted angrily at him. Her stomach was still roiling and her head pounding, which only added to her anger. She focused what mana she could into strength, refusing to appear weak in front of the perpetrator.

Loghain raised his brow at Lhiannon, then turned to the prisoner. "I would advise you to tell her what she wants to know. She takes an attempt on her life rather personally."

Hallen flinched and shrank back slightly, his eyes growing wider in fear but saying nothing. He had been told the poison would kill her within minutes, yet here she was, standing before him dressed in her full armor as if she were heading into battle. Lhiannon brought Spellweaver up in front of her and began to whisper a spell. Hallen watched as an ominous glow settled around the sword.

"I will go to whatever lengths are necessary to pull the information from you. If it means protecting my Grey Wardens, my country, or myself, I will do _whatever it takes_. I suggest you find your tongue before I find it for you."

Hallen held up his hands in supplication. "No, My Lady. You need not do that." He put his hands down as he watched Lhiannon dissipate the magic and replace Spellweaver within its scabbard. She raised an eyebrow at him, crossing her arms over the double griffons emblazoned on her breastplate. Hallen sighed heavily. "I shall tell you what I know."

"Then get to it; you waste my time," Lhiannon snapped at him.

"One of my regular customers at the tavern is Lord Guy from Amaranthine. We've developed a sort of friendship over the years. I have fallen on hard times. I gamble on proving matches and have gone into significant debt." Hallen paused, resting his head in his hands. "He followed you to the tavern and pulled me aside as I worked in the kitchen. He offered to pay my debts if I would slip a few drops from his flask into your drink."

Lhiannon put her hands on the bars to the cell to steady herself, the tickle of Anders' healing spell a constant presence on her skin. "Go on," she prompted.

Hallen sighed heavily, running his hands down his face. "I _had_ to do it, My Lady. I have debt collectors after me…"

"Did Lord Guy tell you anything else?" Loghain asked as the door to the cellblock opened and the King entered, closely followed by Bann Teagan. Loghain held a hand up to stop the King from proceeding further. Alistair leaned forward and spoke into Loghain's ear. "Has the prisoner said anything?"

Loghain nodded, watching as Hallen's eyes flicked toward the King and widened in surprise. "He is just now starting to tell his tale."

Alistair nodded, standing straight and looking at the prisoner. Hallen returned his attention to Loghain. "No, Your Grace. I've told you all I know."

"We need to apprehend Lord Guy of Amaranthine," Loghain growled to Alistair. "This prisoner said Guy paid him to put the poison in the Commander's drink."

Alistair turned to the guards that accompanied him. "Do as the Teyrn commands; put the word out that Lord Guy of Amaranthine is to be detained on sight," he said, turning back toward the prisoner in the cell. "You poisoned the Arlessa?"

Hallen nodded slowly. "I did, Your Majesty."

"You know that the punishment for such crimes is death?" Alistair asked as Hallen nodded again. "I do."

Alistair turned toward Lhiannon. "And what is your wish, Arlessa Lhiannon? Death is an appropriate punishment for this offense."

Lhiannon thought about that for a moment before turning toward Hallen. "It is an appropriate punishment, however if you have anything further to add, speak now."

"I don't, My Lady," Hallen said sadly. "Lord Guy only asked that I put the drops into your drink. I know of nothing further."

"Then with your admission of guilt, you are sentenced to death by hanging. Maker have mercy on your soul," Alistair said.

"Your Majesty, with your permission, I'd like to take him back to Vigil's Keep," Lhiannon said, turning from the cell and slowly walking to the King. "If and when we catch up with Lord Guy, we will need this man's testimony."

Loghain nodded his agreement. "I am not convinced that the perpetrator has told us all he knows. We can continue to interrogate him there." He paused, thinking for a moment. "We may also be able to use him to flush out Lord Guy; if Guy hears Hallen is at Vigil's Keep, he may be tempted to come out to try and silence him. Of course, we shall be waiting."

"Then I will transfer him to your custody when you are ready to return to Vigil's Keep," Alistair agreed.

* * *

The Grey Wardens and the King returned to the Grey Warden compound after Alistair's pronouncement of death for Hallen, packing equipment and supplies for the return trip to Vigil's Keep. Lhiannon was still feeling the effects of the poison in her system. Simply wearing her Grey Warden armor had sapped both her strength and mana; the lingering effects also meant it took her significantly longer to remove her armor. Her fingers moved sluggishly in unfastening straps and untying knots. She was gathering the rest of her belongings for the trip back to Vigil's Keep when Loghain entered her room. She could tell by his scowling face that he was in a foul mood indeed.

"I should not have let you talk me into going to that bloody tavern, not with conspirators out for your blood. It was foolish for you to have suggested it and for me to have let it happen," he growled.

"Loghain, what would you have me do?" she asked sharply, whirling about and gesturing with her hands. "Cower behind the locked doors of Vigil's Keep and wait for them to come after me? Have tasters stand by to sample my every food and drink? No, I'd rather take the fight to them. _I will not cower before them!_"

Loghain rushed forward, grasping her shoulders firmly with both hands hard enough that she would later have small bruises on her skin from where his gauntlets had dug in. "Maker's breath, Lhiannon, I love you," he growled at her. "I will not stand by and watch them try to kill you. You need to be more cautious."

With a sigh, Lhiannon brought her hands up and settled them on his breastplate, the metal cool under her touch, unlike the hot skin that lay just beneath. She rested her aching head on her hands and felt Loghain kiss the top of her head. "And I, you, Loghain," she said, the weariness evident in her voice. "I shall endeavor to be more cautious, but I will not hide myself away. Right now, I feel like I could sleep for days."

"Lhi," Anders said from the doorway, panting as though he were out of breath. "Some of the King's guards just arrived with news on Lord Guy."

Loghain took Lhiannon by the hand and they followed Anders to the main hall within the compound. Alistair and Nathaniel were speaking with the guards when the other Grey Wardens arrived.

"Lord Guy left Denerim," Alistair growled. "He was spotted leaving several hours ago by a sentry on the city wall; Guy was long gone before the sentry could get word to the guards at the gate. He was heading north toward Amaranthine."

"Most likely to report on his failure," Nathaniel said.

"How was he able to pass the guards at the city gate?" Loghain snapped.

"I asked that very question, Loghain. The sentry observed him crawl out from under a wagon that had just exited the city," Alistair explained. "He fled on foot; he most likely had a horse waiting outside the city."

"We need to leave for Vigil's Keep as soon as possible then to follow up on him," Lhiannon said. "Though I'm not looking forward to the trip. I still feel rather nasty."

* * *

_A/N: Happy Holidays to everyone! Stay safe!_

_I'm working on the next chapter and hopefully will have it up by New Year's. It's mostly written, but I think it needs a few odds and ends. Who knows, I may end up splitting it into two chapters. We'll see what shakes out.  
_

_Thanks to everyone following along, especially the wonderful reviewers (shout outs to Shakespira, Arsinoe, mutive, Tsar Bomba, icey, Kea, etc.). Your encouragement and insight are much appreciated and I look forward to receiving them. Feel free to private message me too...I love hearing from other authors and readers!  
_


	30. An Arlessa's Work is Never Done

Lhiannon could feel the exhaustion settling into her very bones as the spires of Vigil's Keep came into view. The Grey Wardens had pushed themselves to the Vigil with barely a stop along the way. She could still feel the lingering effects of both the poison and the antidote in her body; they left her feeling weak and nauseous. It was all she could do to force a small amount of flatbread and water into her system and even then, her stomach would only unhappily accept it occasionally. When they returned to the Vigil, all she wanted was a hot bath and then to crawl into bed and sleep for about a week.

The Grey Wardens had brought Hallen back to Vigil's Keep along with two dozen soldiers from Denerim; it was all the King and Queen could afford to send with them. It had been decided to move Hallen to Vigil's Keep so he could bear witness against Lord Guy if and when he was apprehended. It was also to keep him away from any other conspirators or assassins that may be in Denerim and looking to silence him before he could tell the Grey Wardens what he knew of the plot against Lhiannon.

Captain Garavel and Sergeant Maverlies were waiting for them at the gates of Vigil's Keep when they arrived. Lhiannon asked Garavel and Loghain to take Hallen to the prison and secure him there while she went to get a briefing from Varel. The guards that accompanied them from Denerim, all soldiers returning to Amaranthine to be near their homes, were to be taken to quarters in the fortress by Sergeant Maverlies. With a quick command, the soldiers fell into step behind Maverlies as she led them to their barracks.

Lhiannon walked toward the main door of the keep, feeling the weariness increase with every step she mounted until she was nearly out of breath. Walking gingerly into the main hall of the Vigil, she was greeted by Tiberius' loud barking from just outside the door at the other end of the hall. She turned to see what had him in such an uproar when an orange blur raced into the room and scrambled up one of the bookcases to rest at the top. Lhiannon approached the bookcase to find a small orange cat sitting on the top, its fur standing on end and looking at Lhiannon warily. Tiberius bounded into the hall, nails scraping along the floor as he caught sight of the cat and barked wildly at it.

"What have we here?" Lhiannon asked, reaching up and pulling the trembling cat off the top of the bookcase; Lhiannon could hear the cat's claws scraping against her armor as the settled the cat into her arms. Tiberius barked excitedly, the nub of his tail wagging so hard his hindquarters followed helplessly. She began scratching its head to soothe it as Anders entered the hall. He saw what Lhiannon was holding and rushed to her side, his excitement barely contained.

"A cat!" Anders exclaimed, reaching out and scratching the sides of its face. The cat closed its eyes and began purring loudly, a look of contentment on its face. "I've always wanted one, but of course those stuffy mages in the tower frown upon such things." Anders continued to scratch the cat's face, making little cooing noises at it. "You're just a good little kitty, aren't you? Oh, yes you are."

"They did indeed frown on such things," Lhiannon agreed, scratching the cat's head one last time. She gently held the cat out to Anders, who quickly accepted the furry bundle. "I do believe you have a new friend."

Anders gasped, his eyes wide. "You would let me keep him at the Vigil?"

"If he brings you happiness, why not?" Lhiannon reached down to scratch Tiberius' head. "After all, I have Tiberius here." Tiberius looked up at his mistress, nudging her hand for more pettings; Lhiannon, of course, obliged him.

"Yes, but he's pretty much everyone's mabari," Anders said, rocking the cat in his arms and cooing at it. Lhiannon nearly laughed out loud at the sight of her friend as he swayed with the cat, making little faces at it as he cradled it like an infant.

"So," Lhiannon asked, scratching the cat one last time as Anders held it. "What will you call it?"

"Ser Pounce-A-Lot," he said, giving great dignity to the voice.

Lhiannon's eyebrows shot up. "Ser Pounce-A-Lot?"

"Yep. I've had that name in my mind for years. Isn't that right, Ser Pounce-A-Lot?"

The cat meowed loudly, whether in happiness or embarrassment, Lhiannon could not tell. Anders began to move toward his quarters, whispering to Ser Pounce-A-Lot as he left and burying his face into the cat's stomach. Tiberius was quickly at his heels, watching the interaction of human and cat with great interest.

* * *

Lhiannon was in her office not long after, tying up loose ends before retiring for the evening; it was going to be an early night as she knew tomorrow would be a busy day once again. Mistress Woolsey had just left, pleased that the caravan problems in the Wending Wood were dealt with and that the qunari merchant from the abandoned mine had set up shop in Vigil's Keep. New goods were beginning to flow into the arling; the volume and variety of goods were increasing while the prices were falling to more normal levels. Lhiannon knew a trip to Amaranthine was needed soon; she needed to speak with Mervis and give him the good news as well. She also needed to speak to him about the rumors of missing or stolen enchanted weapons in the arling. Constable Aidan also needed to be informed that Lord Guy was to be apprehended on sight, if Varel had not already made him aware.

As if on cue, Varel soon knocked on the doorjamb. Lhiannon looked up from the papers on her desk to greet him. The concern she saw in his eyes nearly took her breath away; he looked like he had slept poorly in recent days.

"Commander," he began, quickly crossing the room to the side of her desk. Lhiannon stood as he approached. Varel reached down and grabbed her hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I am relieved to see you well. I have been concerned for your welfare since word came from Denerim."

Lhiannon smiled at him, overwhelmed by her seneschal's concern. "I am doing much better, Varel. I'll be even more so once I have a hot meal and bath."

"And perhaps a good night's sleep." Varel released her hands and took a chair across from her desk. "Commander," he began again, all business this time. "Velanna insisted on waiting for your return before she took the Joining. Once she hears that you have returned, she will want to have the ceremony. Immediately." Varel lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. "She is quite…prickly."

Lhiannon grinned and scoffed at Varel. "She is at that. However, her Joining will wait until tomorrow morning. I am only tying up a few loose ends before retiring for the evening. If she corners you, tell her the ceremony will take place tomorrow morning."

Varel nodded his agreement. "I received the messaging bird telling of your poisoning. We have been watching for Lord Guy, but he hasn't made an open appearance either here or in Amaranthine as of yet. The guards have orders to apprehend him on sight. Constable Aidan has increased patrols around the city to watch for him."

Lhiannon nodded. "What about Oghren and the Glavonak brothers? Were they able to seal the breach that the darkspawn used to infiltrate the Vigil?"

Varel nodded. "They did. There is a new seal in the caverns that the Glavonaks think will keep the darkspawn out for some time to come." Varel paused, grinning as he did so. "Oghren was not happy that I locked the ale barrels away."

"I imagine he swore the vengeance of the ancestors upon you," Lhiannon laughed, looking up as she saw Captain Garavel and Loghain enter her office. She motioned for them to sit. "Good, I'm glad the two of you are here. I was just about to ask Varel if he had any news on the conspirators."

Varel nodded a greeting to Garavel, then stood to shake Loghain's hand, greeting him warmly. Garavel sat in the chair next to Varel while Loghain perched himself on the corner of Lhiannon's desk. "We do have one good lead," Varel began once the newcomers were settled. "My sources have learned that a meeting regarding the "Dark Wolf" is to take place twelve days from now."

"Twelve days?" Lhiannon asked. "Why so long from now, I wonder?"

"My source says that will allow enough 'travel time' for those coming from farther off," Varel grumbled unhappily.

"I care not for the sound of that," Loghain growled, his eyes narrowing and fists clenching. Lhiannon could hear the leather palms of his gauntlets squeaking in protest. "Where is this meeting to take place?"

Varel went to the map of Amaranthine that was mounted on the wall of Lhiannon's office. He pointed to a spot off the West Road. "This is an abandoned farm; the Stark family used to live there, but they moved on some time ago. My informant says they are meeting there."

"Do I want to know how you found this out?" Lhiannon asked, placing her elbow on the desk and resting her head in her hand. "Or how much it cost the treasury?"

Varel resumed his place in the chair across Lhiannon's desk. "My source has demanded that I keep their identity secret. It's part of the agreement I have with this person for their services. And, no, you don't want to know how much it cost the treasury."

Lhiannon shrugged. "Very well then. I won't press you for more information." She turned to Loghain. "You and I will discuss later who shall deal with the conspirators."

"Commander," Loghain began, an edge to his voice implying he would brook no argument in the matter. "You should consider staying here while the conspirators are dealt with. I would not have you march directly into the wolves lair."

"I will take the matter under advisement, however, you will remember what I said earlier about cowering," she said sharply, earning a scowl from Loghain. He knew her well enough to expect her insistence on going. He was going to have to find a way to convince her otherwise.

Garavel cleared his throat. "Commander. We have received reports that more darkspawn have been sighted in the Knotwood Hills."

"Ah, something other than conspirators running amok in the arling," Lhiannon said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Yes, indeed," he responded. "Two hunters reported finding a cave in the area that they claim was infested with the creatures. They are currently in Amaranthine, waiting to speak with you."

"Amaranthine is near the top of my list of things to do already," Lhiannon sighed. The life of an arlessa was certainly full of running here and there, putting out fires. "I need to speak to the Merchant's Guild anyway, so I'll seek out the hunters when I arrive." Lhiannon stifled a yawn with her hand and stood. "Gentlemen, it has been a long day and I'm still recovering from my misfortunes in Denerim. If you don't mind, I'd like to retire for the evening."

Varel and Garavel both stood, nodding to Loghain and bowing formally to Lhiannon as they left. She followed them to the door and beckoned for a nearby servant to bring a meal to her quarters. As she turned from the doorway, she began to unfasten the straps holding her armor in place, walking to her living quarters as she did so. She turned and looked back over her shoulder at Loghain, who was still perched on her desk and watching her with interest.

"Aren't you coming?" she said, giving him a mischievous glance.

"I thought you said you wanted to retire for the evening," he said, a corner of his mouth beginning to turn upward.

"I don't remember saying that I wanted to retire _alone,_" she said, turning and entering her living quarters. Lhiannon heard Loghain rise from the desk to follow her and she felt herself grinning like a schoolgirl; her weariness suddenly seemed far away. Lhiannon continued into her bedchamber and stood next to her armor stand, peeling the pieces off and settling them in their rightful place. An empty stand stood next to hers; she had decided before they left for Denerim to have an extra stand brought into her room for just such an occasion.

Loghain entered the room a few seconds behind her. He caught sight of the empty stand and turned toward Lhiannon, his brow raised in curiosity. She grinned at him. "Your heavy plates keep marring the top of my vanity. It's unsightly."

He grinned at her, beginning to remove his own armor. "Indeed."

A sound outside the door drew Lhiannon's attention away from Loghain; reluctantly, as he was down to just a longshirt on his upper body, the fabric slightly molded to his features and showing off his broad shoulders and chest. He was still working on the plates covering his lower body as the servant arrived with their meal, setting it on the table in Lhiannon's living quarters. She followed the servant to the door, bidding him goodnight as she ran the bolt behind him. Lhiannon and Loghain finished removing their armor and padding before sitting at the table to take their meal, eating just a little faster than they normally would have. She could feel the anticipation building between them as they ate; they spoke little and instead concentrated on finishing their meal as quickly as possible.

When she had finished her meal, Lhiannon entered her bedchamber and turned to the fireplace, crouching down before it to light a fire as the room had begun to grow chilly. As she finished the quiet chant that set fire to the wood, she felt herself being jerked quickly to her feet, Loghain's mouth crushing hers in a deep and desperate kiss. She could taste the wine from their meal mingling with the salt on his skin and felt the tickle of his stubble on her lips. He had pulled her close, nearly crushing her with the strength of his embrace. One hand had settled into the small of her back and the other at the back of her head, clutching her in his need to have her body as close to his as possible. He continued to ravish her mouth with his own until she felt dizzy from lack of breath. He broke the kiss, pulling away slightly while still clutching her against him, the heat from his smoldering body radiating out and driving the chill from her. His eyes bored into hers and she felt a shudder run through her. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

"Do not frighten me like that again," he said quietly, the look of concern on his face so great that Lhiannon had to fight not to look away.

"I shall do my best not to," she breathed, deciding instead to scrabble at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it over his head. She desperately needed to feel his bare skin against hers as a reminder that she was indeed alive and well.

It was mere moments before their clothing was discarded haphazardly on the floor, Lhiannon taking Loghain by the hand and pulling him to her bed as their mouths continued to ravish one another. They fell upon the bed, limbs tangled together as lips pulled and nipped at skin. Lhiannon found herself lying on top of Loghain, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach as his hands roamed over her bare flesh. As she wandered lower, she felt Loghain's breath become more rapid, breathless moans escaping his lips as she took him into her mouth. His hips bucked under her and his hands found her hair, running themselves through it as her mouth worked over his length. The sensation of her warm, wet lips and tongue on his burning skin nearly drove him over the brink. He quickly pulled her forward before his release, flipping her onto her back and burying himself completely inside her with one swift movement. She arched her back beneath him, pulling his face down and teasing his tongue with hers as his thrusts became more urgent. A moment later she kicked her legs, flipping them over so she straddled Loghain, her hips grinding relentlessly into his own. His hands found purchase on her thighs, helping drive her movements until she threw her head back, a primal moan of ecstasy escaping her lips as her muscles began to spasm around him. The sound of her moan and the feel of her clenching muscles brought him over the edge in a swift torrent of bliss. He groaned with pleasure at his release as she lowered herself to his chest, a contented smile across her face.

His fingers ran absentmindedly through her hair as she lay on top of him. He could feel her heart beating just above his, its hurried pace calming as he stroked her hair. "I thought I had lost you in Denerim," he whispered to her, putting his hands on either side of her face as she raised her head to look at him. Lhiannon moved forward off his slackening length and kissed him softly, pushing a lock of hair off his forehead. "I thought so too," she admitted, moving to sit upright and pulling him with her. She sat between his legs, hers on either side of him as they sat chest to chest, her arms around him and hands lightly stroking the skin of his back. Loghain wrapped his arms around her and held her close, grateful to the two Grey Wardens that saved her life. He also vowed to get to the dark center of the conspiracy that threatened her life and bury his sword in its heart.

* * *

"Commander, I insist on taking the Joining at once."

Lhiannon had just answered the door to her office dressed in only a longshirt and trousers after having been awakened by the incessant pounding of a fist on her office door. When she saw the prickly elf on the other side, Lhiannon felt her patience growing thinner by the second. Varel had warned her that Velanna would want to take the Joining immediately upon hearing of Lhiannon's return; it seemed that he was not far off the mark.

"Velanna, I will certainly..."

"_Now_, Commander," Velanna barked, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Lhiannon. "The longer we delay, the more Seranni is tangled in the Architect's web."

Loghain appeared in the doorway to Lhiannon's office from her living quarters, dressed in a longshirt and trousers, looking to see what the commotion was about. Velanna saw him there and her brows furrowed. She turned to Lhiannon. "Don't you think it inappropriate to have intimate relations with your Second?"

"And how is what Lhiannon and I do in our private time any of your damn business?" Loghain growled, giving Velanna a dark look. "You will learn your place."

Lhiannon held up a hand, looking at the elf with narrowed eyes. "Velanna, do you know what the root word of 'commander' is?" Lhiannon asked, her own arms folded indignantly over her chest and ignoring Velanna's comment regarding her relationship with Loghain.

"What does this have to do with my Joining?" Velanna spat. "I demand to take the Joining _now. _By the creators, do you shemlens always drag your feet this much?"

Lhiannon ignored the elf's demand for the moment. "The root word of 'commander' is 'command'. 'Command' means to give order or instruction to. The last time I checked, _I_ was the Warden Commander. _I _am the one with the responsibility of giving order or instruction here, Velanna, _not you_. Loghain is right; you must learn your place if you are to be a Grey Warden." Lhiannon watched as Velanna bristled, but she remained silent. "Go to Varel's office, Velanna. Loghain and I will be there shortly for your Joining."

Not long after, Lhiannon and Loghain stood in Varel's office, watching as Velanna slumped to the floor after draining the chalice containing the darkspawn blood. Varel crouched down, feeling the strong pulse beating under the skin of Velanna's neck. "She will survive, Commander," Varel said, rising to his feet.

Loghain scoffed from where he stood next to Lhiannon. "Would it be wrong of me to say that part of me wished she would not survive the Joining?"

With a scoff of her own, Lhiannon turned to Loghain. "Velanna is far too willful to succumb to the taint. She would have met her creators and demanded they return her to this world."

* * *

The air was crisp as the Grey Wardens set out for Amaranthine. Though the sun promised to be bright this day, there was a chill in the air that foretold of the coming winter. Ferelden was not the warmest nation in Thedas; winters were known to come early and last for many months. Lhiannon wrapped her cloak more tightly around her, promising herself that she would pull her woolen tunics and trousers out of storage as soon as they returned to Vigil's Keep.

Lhiannon wanted to find the hunters that reported darkspawn activity in the Knotwood Hills, but first she wanted to visit Mervis at the Merchant's Guild, both to see how the improved trade routes were prospering and if he had heard any rumors of stolen or enchanted weapons in the arling. She moved through the light crowds to the street where Mervis' shop was located. They had only traveled a short distance when Anders came up beside Lhiannon, running his hand through his golden locks.

"Uh, Lhi," Anders began, shifting on his feet. "I wouldn't mind doing some shopping while we are here. You know, for supplies."

Lhiannon scoffed at him. "Supplies, indeed. More likely you're looking for new robes. You simply _must _be at the height of fashion. One would think you Orlesian." Anders merely shrugged his shoulders and grinned sheepishly at her. "You know me too well, Lhi."

"All right," Lhiannon agreed, looking toward Nathaniel. "I imagine you would like to see Delilah again, yes?"

Nathaniel nodded eagerly. "I would. I'd like to invite her to Vigil's Keep. There are still some things of our father's there that I'd like her to go through. Besides, we still have catching up to do."

Lhiannon smiled, nodding her agreement. "We shall meet back at the city gates in three hours then, yes?" Both Anders and Nathaniel heartily agreed and headed off in their separate directions. She then turned and looked at Loghain. "Did you want to do something as well?"

Loghain looked at her and scoffed. "If you think I am leaving you to wander Amaranthine alone after what happened in Denerim, you are mistaken." He motioned forward with his hand. "After you, Commander."

Lhiannon and Loghain made their way through the marketplace, working their way toward Mervis' shop. His stall was overflowing with a wide variety of fabrics, the diverse styles and colors testament to the increased trade through the Wending Wood. He has just handed a parcel of fabric to a customer when the Grey Wardens approached.

"Commander!" he called out warmly, taking her hand in his and shaking it firmly before turning and offering his hand to Loghain, who stiffly shook it. "I'm glad to see you back in Amaranthine."

"How is business?" she asked, perusing the fabrics, wondering if Anders had seen Mervis' improved wares.

"Business hasn't been this good in some time, Commander. Caravans are arriving here at the Merchants Guild daily, having had no troubles coming through the Wending Wood." Mervis grinned at Lhiannon and Loghain. "Prices are falling to more normal levels. I'm making better profits now than when prices were higher; more people can afford our goods and services."

Lhiannon smiled at Mervis. "I'm glad to hear it, Mervis."

Loghain came closer, leaning in so he could not be overheard. "Have you heard any rumors circulating among the merchants of the guild?"

Mervis' brows furrowed, looking at Loghain with confusion. "What sort of rumors, Warden?"

The Grey Wardens traded a glance, a nod passing between them. Loghain turned back to Mervis. "Have you heard anything about enchanted items being reported missing or stolen?"

Shaking his head, Mervis traded looks with both Grey Wardens. "No, Warden. Few merchants of the guild deal in enchanted items; of course we always have some in stock, but I have not heard of or seen any unusual activity regarding them."

_So, the enchanted weapons were not destined for the market_, Loghain thought, rubbing his chin. He nodded his thanks to Mervis, who returned it before regarding Lhiannon again.

"The Merchants Guild can't thank you enough for the Grey Wardens' help, Commander," Mervis said, pulling his money pouch from beneath his tunic. "Now, I remember promising a hefty donation to the Grey Wardens for your help."

"That's not necessary, Mervis," Lhiannon said, holding up a hand to the merchant. He looked at her, his expression puzzled. "But, Commander…"

Lhiannon shook her head. "No, Mervis. I'd rather you take that money and help those who were victimized by the troubles in the Wood."

With a sigh, Mervis put his money pouch away. "If you insist, Commander, then that is what the Merchants Guild will do. We'll make sure everyone knows of the Grey Wardens help as well." A customer appeared at Mervis' stand, running their hand over the fabrics. With a nod and wave, Mervis bid the Grey Wardens farewell and proceeded to complete another sale.

Lhiannon and Loghain turned away from Mervis' stall to continue their wanderings through the market when they sensed great excitement through their shared taint. They looked at each other, slightly confused, as Anders bounded around the building containing the Merchants Guild. He had been running, red splotches high on his cheekbones and his face relaying his obvious excitement. Lhiannon could hear Ser Pounce-A-Lot mewling loudly in Anders' pack, no doubt unhappy at being tossed about in such an undignified manner.

"Lhi! Lhi! My phylactery…" Anders began, screeching to a stop in front of Lhiannon and Loghain, hands on his knees and panting for breath.

Lhiannon held her hands up at Anders. "Whoa, Andy, slow down. Your phylactery? What about it?"

"It's here," he panted, his breath beginning to slow. "In Amaranthine."

Lhiannon looked at him in shocked disbelief. "_What_?"

Loghain looked at Anders with his brows furrowed. "I thought phylacteries were stored under heavy guard at either Kinloch Hold or in Denerim."

Anders nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "Normally, they are. But I ran into an acquaintance at the Crown and Lion here in Amaranthine. Namaya. She said there is a cache of phylacteries stored at an old warehouse here in Amaranthine. She said mine is among them."

Loghain looked at Anders with a dark scowl. "This…Namaya…is she a mage? How would she know of this?"

"No, she's not a mage. She's an elf," Anders explained. "What difference does it make? My phylactery is _here_. This could be my only chance to destroy it and be free of the templars forever."

Loghain scoffed at Anders. "So your information comes from the word of a non-mage elf? I find that information highly suspect. The Chantry and the Circle don't go telling non-mage elves whose phylacteries they have on hand and where they can be found."

Anders shot a dark look at Loghain before turning his gaze on Lhiannon, his eyes pleading with her. "Come on, Lhiannon. You _know_ the only reason the Chantry has phylacteries is to chase us down like dogs if we don't toe the Chantry's line and be good little mages. This is my chance to be _free. _Wouldn't you want that if you knew where _your_ phylactery was?"

"I admit, the prospect is tempting," Lhiannon said, sighing heavily as pondered the thought of her own phylactery hidden away somewhere in Ferelden. There were templars who enjoyed tormenting mages with stories of using phylacteries to hunt down and kill apostates and maleficars. Less mages to threaten the Maker's children, the templars would sneer at the mages. "However, Loghain is right; the Chantry doesn't advertise where it holds our phylacteries or which ones they have."

"Anders, you must be cautious," Loghain said sharply. "You know there are templars who want you eliminated, Grey Warden or not. At the very least, let us question this elf to make sure she isn't deceiving you."

Anders shook his head vehemently. "_No_, Loghain. We need to destroy it _now_. If it's here in Amaranthine, it's a chance I have to take. I'll take it alone, if I have to."

Lhiannon shook her head at Anders. "Absolutely not," she spat at him. "You will take no such chances by yourself." Her look softened as she regarded her friend. "I know this is important to you, Andy." She turned to Loghain, who regarded her with steel in his blue eyes. "Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to look at the warehouse and see what we find."

"I'm not convinced that this is wise, Lhiannon," Loghain said, a frown crossing his face. "But let us at least wait until Nathaniel comes back. There is safety in numbers."

* * *

The dilapidated warehouse was near the edge of the market district, the rust covering the main door testament to the lack of use. An ancient lock secured the door from passerby but it took Nathaniel only a few seconds to disable it and allow the Grey Wardens access to the interior of the warehouse. It was almost completely dark inside, wan light coming through the dust covered windows. Anders raised his staff, the orb on the end glowing with a soft yellow light that pushed the shadows back. They saw many broken boxes and crates littering the dust covered floor. There was also a single path worn through the dust toward a door at the far end of the warehouse.

"That's where we go," Anders said, quickly moving to the front of the group and impatiently leading them through the warehouse. He reached the door where the path led and opened it, gasping at what lay on the other side. Lhiannon quickly moved to his side; instead of phylacteries in the room, three scowling templars waited for them, weapons drawn. At their head was templar Rylock, the woman who attempted to arrest Anders at Vigil's Keep before Lhiannon invoked the Right of Conscription for him.

"Well, I almost believed that the infamous Anders would not take the bait regarding his phylactery," Rylock sneered, a smug look of victory crossing her face.

Anders groaned in disappointment, shaking his head as he lowered his staff. "Loghain, it appears you were right. I should have known the templars would be behind this. They're such sore losers."

"Perhaps you'll listen to my advice next time, mage," Loghain growled, looking at the scowling Rylock suspiciously. The look in the woman's eyes told Loghain that this templar was a true Chantry zealot; the Right of Conscription would mean less than nothing to her.

Rylock looked at Lhiannon, shaking her head as if she were scolding an impudent child. "Hero of Ferelden and Grey Warden Commander you may be, but you made a poor choice in conscripting this mage. He will never submit to the authority of anyone, templar or Grey Warden alike. He will betray you eventually, Commander."

Lhiannon scoffed at the templar. "He has made a fine Grey Warden so far, Rylock. He is an asset to our order."

"Ah yes, 'so far' being the key words, Commander," Rylock sneered, taking a step closer to Anders as she raised her sword slightly. "However, I will make sure this murderer is not a burden to anyone ever again."

"Now see here, Rylock," Anders began, his anger beginning to pierce his laid back façade, "you templars can't arrest me. King Alistair allowed my conscription. You were there, remember. Or has all that Chantry nonsense finally muddled your head beyond saving?"

"The Right cannot be denied, Rylock," Lhiannon snarled, angered that the templar insisted on defying the King's permission. "Grey Wardens can invoke the Right for anyone. You no longer have a say in this matter. I assure you, the King will not allow you to take Anders."

Rylock raised her chin defiantly, looking with disdain at both Anders and Lhiannon. "The Chantry's authority supersedes the King's authority in this matter. Anders cannot hide within the ranks of the Grey Wardens. The Chantry will have its will done."

"The Chantry's will or your own? Stand down, templar," Loghain snarled, taking a step forward to stand between Lhiannon and Anders. His hand found the hilt of his sword and he made sure the templars saw it. "You have no authority here. Take your men and go."

The two templars standing behind Rylock moved out slightly, readying their weapons as they glared at the Grey Wardens. Rylock snarled at them. "I am hardly surprised at your position. The Grey Wardens have always been a haven for criminals and maleficars. Isn't that right, _Teyrn_ Loghain? _Mage_ Lhiannon? Both of you would know something about that." Loghain inhaled sharply, preparing to retort when Lhiannon put a hand out; he held his tongue, but only just.

"Anders will remain with the Grey Wardens," Lhiannon growled. "We will not hand him over to you. Take _Warden_ Loghain's advice and leave now before someone gets hurt."

"I don't know how you inspire such loyalty among your followers, Anders," Rylock said, snarling at the mage. "But it won't help you now. This is your last opportunity; come with us _now._"

Anders shook his head, scoffing indignantly at the templar. "You don't get it, do you? I'm a Grey Warden. I'm beyond your reach, Rylock." Anders then grinned at her, his eyes indignant above his smiling mouth. "I know you'll miss me, Rylock. Your life must be completely without meaning now."

With a guttural roar of outrage, Rylock swung her sword at Anders. Though her movement was fast, Loghain's was faster; he easily blocked her swing before it even got close to the mage. Loghain scoffed. "You templars always did have sloppy form."

The two other templars behind Rylock charged, Anders being their primary target. One of the templars prepared to smite the mages; as he raised his arms to bring the force crashing down, Loghain rushed forward, ramming his shield into the templar to knock him to the floor, breaking his concentration. As the templar moved to regain his feet, Loghain kicked him back to the floor and ran him through with his sword.

Lhiannon and Anders were both fighting with Rylock, her templar training keeping both mages at bay, but just barely. Rylock was trying to both parry Lhiannon's blows from Spellweaver and disrupt the mages' mana. Anders was able to cast spells, but Rylock was having some success in disrupting his mana; Anders' spells were weak and only marginally effective.

Nathaniel had exchanged his bow for two wicked daggers, preferring them in the limited space in which they fought. He moved to flank the second templar, using Loghain's blows as a diversion. With a whisper, Nathaniel faded from view, using his stealth to approach the templar. Loghain had seen Nathaniel from the corner of his eye and kept his blows short and precise. As the templar raised his sword to thrust it at Loghain, his eyes went wide behind his helmet, his body becoming rigid for an instant before he fell to the floor, a vicious dagger protruding from a joint in the armor covering the templar's side. Nathaniel returned to view, pulling his dagger from the templar's flesh. Loghain's brows went up, a smirk crossing his face. "Well done, Nathaniel."

Loghain and Nathaniel turned to see Lhiannon thrusting her sword at Rylock, backing the templar against the wall. Rylock's face was contorted in rage, snarling at the mage wielding a blade so effectively. Lhiannon caught Rylock's sword hilt with Spellweaver, yanking the sword from the templar's hand, where it fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Rylock looked at Lhiannon with blind rage as Anders' hand suddenly appeared over Lhiannon's shoulder and grabbed Rylock's bare neck. Lhiannon felt intense heat coming from Anders' hand as he growled a chant that sent searing heat into Rylock's body. The templar began to convulse, her eyes rolling up into her head as acrid smoke began to rise from her body. Anders pulled his hand away after a moment, Rylock's body slumping to the floor with a clatter of heavy armor.

"An ambush," Loghain growled, wiping his sword with a corner of the tunic worn by the fallen templar at his feet. He turned to Anders, scowling at the mage as he sheathed his sword. "Perhaps next time you will assess the facts more carefully before rushing in to such a situation."

Anders sighed, nodding at Loghain. "You're right, Loghain. Now I wonder if Namaya knew about this all along. Did they slip her a few sovereigns to lure me in? Ah well, I suppose I may never know." Anders then turned to Lhiannon, giving her a warm smile. "Thank you, Lhi, for standing by me."

"You're my friend, Andy," she smiled, placing her hand on his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll always stand by you."

Anders nodded, then turned to look about the warehouse. "We should probably get out of here before someone else comes along to wag their fingers at us."

* * *

_Whew, made it up before New Years! I did end up splitting this chapter in two; it was getting to manifesto lengths, especially with the odds and ends I wanted to clean up. We're off to the Knotwood Hills next.  
_

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers: mutive, Dante Alighieri 1308, Shakespira, Arsinoe, and Gene Dark (who was a reading and reviewing MACHINE the last few days!). You all are the best!  
_


	31. Lurking Beneath the Hills

Lhiannon decided that after the encounter with the templars, it was time to leave Amaranthine behind for a while and deal with the rumors of darkspawn in the Knotwood Hills. The two hunters that Captain Garavel described were waiting for the Grey Wardens just outside the gates of Amaranthine. A human and an elf, just as Garavel had said. Lhiannon thought they were an unlikely looking pair, but she had witnessed stranger matches; she only had to look at the slightly scowling Grey Warden in step beside her to see that. There was no doubt in Lhiannon's mind that there were many who saw her and Loghain as an unlikely looking pair themselves. She chuckled to herself, drawing a curious glance from Loghain.

"Something amusing?" he grumbled.

"Just thinking about unlikely pairings," she grinned, indicating the hunters ahead of them.

For all his taciturn nature, Loghain did have a quick, if dry, wit. He quickly picked up on Lhiannon's thought, scoffing lightly while the corner of his mouth twitched as if to rise. "Indeed," he agreed. They returned their attention to the hunters ahead, nodding in greeting as they approached.

What the hunters told Lhiannon had her both puzzled and concerned. The elf, Micah, had fallen into a cave while they were hunting deer. His human companion, Colbert, described a number of darkspawn moving through the area and was certain that they would either kill him on the spot or haul him underground for Maker knew what purpose. It was Micah's belief that the darkspawn looked like they were preoccupied with something as they completely ignored his shouts for help. That was unlike the darkspawn and it concerned Lhiannon greatly; darkspawn were generally not known for leaving screaming individuals behind.

Loghain reached into his pack and produced his well-used map of Amaranthine and a stub of charcoal to mark it with. Lhiannon could not help but grin; Loghain did so love his maps. "Where did you say this cave was?" he asked Colbert, smoothing the map out on the top of a nearby crate. The hunter pointed to a place in the western part of Amaranthine.

"Here, Warden. We were hunting in the Knotwood Hills. The cave entrance is near a ravine just off the main road passing through."

Lhiannon turned to Nathaniel while Loghain was marking his map. "I've never been through the Knotwood Hills before. What is the area like?"

Nathaniel grimaced. "It's a nasty area of the arling, covered in dead, twisted trees and piles of rock. Very few people live there, as there is little in the way of farmland. The rockslides also make it dangerous to travel through, even on the main roads. There have always been rumors of an entrance to the Deep Roads within the canyons, but with the dangers lurking there, no one has ventured into the area in years to find out if the rumors are true. It's not my favorite place to visit, that's for certain."

Loghain had finished pinpointing the location with the hunters as Lhiannon turned to regard them again. "Thank you both for your help."

Colbert looked at Lhiannon expectantly. "Do we perhaps get something for our trouble?"

Lhiannon heard Loghain's angry growl from behind her; Anders and Nathaniel were scoffing amongst themselves at the audacity of the request. Lhiannon simply sighed, reaching into her money purse. "Here's a sovereign for your trouble," she said, handing it to Colbert. He grinned widely.

"Well, that makes falling into a pit of darkspawn not so bad after all. Maker watch over you," he grinned, nodding his head at the Grey Wardens. Loghain merely scoffed.

* * *

The Knotwood Hills were just as Nathaniel described them, Lhiannon thought. Dead, twisted trees scattered among the fallen rocks gave the whole area an unsettling, haunted feel. As the Grey Wardens looked down into the ravine below, they could see evidence of massive rockslides that had taken place in years past. Snaking its way down into the depths of the ravine was a rickety wooden stairway. The shifting of rock over the years made the structure lean precariously in several locations. They would be lucky to get to the bottom without the whole structure toppling over with them on it.

"You know, I can't say I'm looking forward to this little trek," Anders said, stroking the head of Ser Pounce-A-Lot for comfort. Lhiannon still could not fathom how the cat tolerated being hauled about in Anders' pack. He must enjoy it, however, as she rarely heard a peep out of the cat. "Ser Pounce-A-Lot isn't looking forward to it either, isn't that right, little kitty?" A plaintive meow could be heard from inside the pack.

Loghain pulled a length of rope from his pack, securing one end around a nearby post and the other around his waist. "I'll go first," he said, approaching the first landing of the rickety staircase cautiously. "I'm the heaviest here. If I can make it safely, the rest of you should be fine." He cautiously began his descent, holding on to the railings with both hands. The structure swayed perilously at several points and Lhiannon felt her heart leap into her throat, but before too long Loghain had made his way to the first bit of solid ground not quite half way down. With a wave to Lhiannon, she sighed and began to slowly make her way down, followed by Anders and finally Nathaniel. Soon all were standing on solid rock, ready to continue the journey down into the chasm.

The remainder of the descent found the structure slightly more stable and they were able to descend two at a time. When they reached the bottom, the rock on either side of the chasm loomed high overhead and blotted out the sun. Lhiannon led the others into the cavern and it was not long before the rough rock walls began to take on a more regular shape as they sloped ever downward. Runes began to appear on the walls. When the reached level ground, it was obvious to all of them that this was no ordinary cave.

They were in the Deep Roads.

Cautiously, they made their way through the ruined tunnels, the taint beginning to flicker in their blood. There were darkspawn nearby, but there was no telling how many. The sense of darkspawn grew stronger the farther they traveled, the first signs of their corruption appearing on the walls as dark streaks, like someone wiped black mud on the wall with their fingers. The taint began to roar in their blood as they approached an intersection in their path. They rounded a corner to see a number of hurlocks shuffling away from them. The Grey Wardens quickly scampered for cover, warily watching the darkspawn ahead of them from the shadows. The creatures made no indication that they had heard, or sensed, the intruders behind them.

Lhiannon heard the sounds of a struggle and saw that the hurlocks were dragging a writhing, female figure with them. Their prisoner was heavily armored and struggling furiously against the darkspawn. With a well placed kick, the prisoner was freed and scrambled away from the darkspawn, finally getting to her feet and pulling a wicked looking short axe and blade from her armor. "Come and get me, thunderhumpers."

"Come on," Lhiannon urged the other Grey Wardens, drawing Spellweaver and running to the prisoner's aid. As she drew close, she saw that it was a female dwarf. She had a heavy helmet on that blocked most of her features, but Lhiannon could see the tattoos on her face that branded her either as a member of the casteless, or as a member of the Legion of the Dead. Lhiannon was betting on the second option.

The Grey Wardens fell upon the darkspawn, Lhiannon and Loghain slashing at them with their swords while Anders chanted spells and Nathaniel picked off the hurlocks one by one with his bow. Lhiannon spotted the dwarf several times during the battle. She was wicked with her short axe and blade, knowing exactly where to land her weapons to inflict the most damage. Her small stature gave her a low center of gravity, allowing her to quickly spin and roll away from the much taller hurlocks. Lhiannon was glad that, for now, she was on their side.

The darkspawn had all finally fallen, the smell of corruption hanging thick in the air as their blood pooled on the ground beneath them. Lhiannon turned to regard the dwarf, nodding as she met the dwarf's gaze. "I am Commander Lhiannon of the Grey Wardens," she said, sheathing Spellweaver and indicating her companions. "These are Wardens Anders, Loghain, and Nathaniel."

The dwarf nodded to each in turn. "Sigrun. I'm part of the Legion of the Dead. We were sent here to investigate the darkspawn in these ruins, but we were overrun." She paused, hanging her head low. "I think I'm the only one left," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What were those darkspawn doing with you?" Lhiannon asked, poking one lying at her feet with her armored boot. "Darkspawn generally don't take prisoners."

"I think they were going to make me into a broodmother," Sigrun said, visibly recoiling. Loghain caught a flicker through the taint and looked to Lhiannon, watching with concern as her face paled and a grimace crossed it.

"What is a broodmother?" Nathaniel asked warily.

Lhiannon shivered unconsciously, feeling a chill run down her spine. "Broodmothers are what give birth to darkspawn. They were once human, dwarf, elf, or qunari females."

"Once?" Loghain asked, feeling the dread crawl from his gut up into his throat.

"The females are exposed to the darkspawn taint, mostly through being forced to consume darkspawn flesh," Lhiannon explained, the revulsion clearly evident on her face. "I've had to face one before; they are unspeakably horrific."

"Where did you run across it?" Anders asked.

"It was during the civil war," Lhiannon began, her eyes going distant as recalled the journey. "We were searching the Dead Trenches for the paragon Branka; Oghren's wife."

Sigrun gasped in disbelief. "I thought she and her entire house perished in the Deep Roads searching for Paragon Caridin's anvil; that's how the story goes anyway."

"Oghren had a _wife_?" Anders said, hardly believing his ears. "And a _paragon_, no less? She must have been drunk off her arse to have agreed to marry him. Or he was the only male left in Orzammar."

Loghain cleared his throat irritably. "You were speaking of the broodmother?"

Lhiannon nodded, continuing her story. "During our search for Branka, we ran into her lover, Hespith; she was half mad from the darkspawn corruption. She was the one who told us how broodmothers are created. It wasn't long after that we encountered it; it had been one of the women from Branka's expedition. Branka had allowed the women of her house to become broodmothers so that she would have an endless supply of darkspawn available to try and foil the traps Caridin set to protect the Anvil of the Void." No one spoke for several minutes, the horror of what Lhiannon described running through their minds.

"We think the darkspawn are breeding an army down in the ruins of Kal'Hirol," Sigrun sighed wearily, breaking the heavy silence. "The Legion suspected that there were broodmothers there and we were sent to investigate when we were overran." Sigrun sheathed her weapons and looked down the corridor where the darkspawn were taking her. "I have to go back there and finish the job. I mean, I'm dead already, right?"

"We can go with you, if you'd have us," Lhiannon said. "The darkspawn are still a threat, especially in light of recent events."

"Heh, they're more than just a threat, Warden. They're actually smart now," Sigrun laughed bitterly. "I never thought that would happen."

Sigrun led them through the tunnels of the Deep Roads, winding their way ever closer to Kal'Hirol and what could be awaiting them there. Not long after they dispatched a group of darkspawn, Lhiannon watched as Sigrun suddenly bolted off to where the ruins of a great stone column stood. Lhiannon quickly followed after and saw Sigrun kneeling on the ground next to a male dwarf, his injuries grave. Lhiannon knew his injuries were beyond her skills and called Anders over to examine him. Anders bent down and touched the dwarf for a moment before raising his eyes to Lhiannon and giving her a barely perceptible shake of his head. Dying, then.

"Jukka," Sigrun said quietly. "What happened?"

"It's as we suspected," Jukka rasped, his voice weak. "Broodmothers. More than one." He turned to the side and began coughing, his whole body shaking with each one as a thin stream of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. When he stopped coughing, he leaned back against the stone, sweat pouring off his brow and his face an alarming ashen color. He turned to look at Sigrun, his eyes becoming hard.

"You have to destroy them, Sigrun," he said, his voice becoming weaker with every word. Sigrun took his hand in her own, holding it as she watched Jukka take a deep breath and exhale. His chest did not rise again. Sigrun reached over and gently closed his eyes.

"Ancestors guide you," she said quietly, remaining at Jukka's side for a moment before rising to her feet and facing the Grey Wardens. "Come on," she said sharply, "we have sodding broodmothers to kill."

Sigrun led the Grey Wardens through the ruins again, picking her way expertly through the debris. As they traveled, Lhiannon fell into step beside Loghain. He looked down at her, seeing the grave expression on her face and feeling her fear through their shared taint. She had grown quiet since Sigrun told them about the broodmothers and her silence served to make Loghain apprehensive. "What is it?" he asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

Lhiannon continued to look ahead, her eyes fixed on Sigrun's diminutive form. "Loghain, I'm going to give you an order that I expect you to obey if my fears come to fruition."

Loghain's eyes narrowed, looking at Lhiannon warily as they continued walking. Whatever order she had in mind, she was clearly hoping it would never need to be obeyed. "What order is that, Commander?"

"Do not let the darkspawn take Sigrun and me. Don't let them turn us into broodmothers. If it looks like we are to be taken, your orders are to kill Sigrun and me; you then are to lead the Grey Wardens if you escape," Lhiannon said, still looking ahead with a hard expression on her face.

Loghain turned to look at Lhiannon and pulled her to a stop, his face hardening in anger. "_What?_" he growled angrily, "you are asking me to _kill_ you? Commander; _Lhiannon..._"

Her head whipped around to look at Loghain, her eyes full of both fear and resolve. She hardened her voice. "Loghain, this is your _command_, and I expect you to follow it as my Second. If you can't, or won't, follow it, I'll find someone who will." She paused and Loghain watched her eyes fill with bitter tears. Her voice dropped so that it was barely above a whisper. "If you truly love me, Loghain, you'll do this. I won't be an instrument for the darkspawn. Not after everything we've been through with the Blight. I would rather have you kill me. I know it sounds insane, but it would be an act of love and kindness to kill me rather than to let me fall to the darkspawn and become a broodmother."

"You are correct about one thing, _Commander_: it _is_ insane," he snapped. Lhiannon turned away, scoffing angrily. "Why must you be so stubborn about this, Loghain? You were a general in the King's army for years; you _know_ that sometimes you have to give orders like this to prevent a greater danger from occurring."

"I have given harsh orders that made _sense _on the field of battle_,_" Loghain snarled. "What you ask treads the line of insanity. Am I to slit your throat when a hurlock simply enters the corridor here? Shall I simply kill the two of you now before we run into another band of darkspawn and foil their chances straight away?"

"You have never seen a broodmother before, Loghain," Lhiannon growled, her back still to him and fists clenched at her sides. "I would rather die than become some, _thing_, whose only purpose is to birth the creatures that threaten everything we know and love."

Loghain felt his jaw set as he considered her order. Being transformed into such a creature went against everything they stood for as Grey Wardens. He knew that Lhiannon would rather die than fall to such a fate and as he pondered her words, he found that could hardly blame her for such a stance. If their situations were reversed, he would likely give her the same order. He nodded grimly. "I will follow your order, if need be, Commander." He placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned once again to face him. "But I and the others will do our damnedest to make sure that situation never presents itself."

A small smile crossed her face; even in such a Maker forsaken place such as this, Loghain found her beauty riveting. Maker help the darkspawn that even tried to get close to her. "I know you will, and I thank you. Let's hope that this conversation becomes nothing more than hot air and something we can laugh about later."

* * *

The Grey Wardens and Sigrun continued to Kal'Hirol, taking a side passage off the main entrance to delve deeper into the keep. Anders asked why they could not go through the main entrance, earning an amused scoff from Sigrun.

"You really don't know anything about dwarves and our politics, do you? All of the higher castes had secret side entrances to their fortresses," Sigrun explained, pointing to the fortress ahead. "When they hear of such-and-such noble preparing to come and cause trouble, they can activate the traps hidden in the main causeways and entrances. Dispatch their rival before they even get close. Keeps the messy bits outside too."

The hallways and rooms of the keep were not only crawling with darkspawn, but they saw ghostly images of dwarves fighting the darkspawn in a futile effort to save their homes. The dwarven nobility had left the casteless behind to await their deaths at the hands of the darkspawn. The casteless knew they were hopelessly outnumbered, but still fought to the last man.

They were passing through the trade quarter when they began to see large white sacks along the walls, starkly contrasting the black corruption that they continued to see on the walls. Lhiannon could feel the taint surging within her blood as they crept closer to the sacks. As they closed the distance, she watched as the sacks began to writhe and bulge. She was about to call out a warning when one of the sacks burst open, a white creature scuttling quickly toward them.

Sigrun gasped loudly. "Childer grubs!" she cried out. "Hurry, kill them quickly before they can transform!"

"Transform into what?" Anders asked as he pulled his staff from its rigging and held it before him. Revulsion crossed his features.

"You don't want to know," Sigrun shouted as she readied her own weapons. "Less talking, more killing!"

Lhiannon and Anders began to chant spells; Lhiannon chanted a primal fire spell while Anders prepared a healing spell. Fire erupted from Lhiannon's outstretched hand, igniting the white creatures and causing them to writhe and scream in agony. She and Loghain then began to stab at them with their swords in an effort to stop their advance. Sigrun was nearby, her weapons a blur as she furiously fought a creature in front of her.

Lhiannon heard Nathaniel shout in pain as one of the grubs bit into his leg, blood spurting from the wounds the creature's teeth left behind. Nathaniel limped back as the creature fell from his leg. As Anders directed a healing spell at Nathaniel, Lhiannon watched in horror as the creature began to shudder, suddenly growing feet and claws. It began to move toward Nathaniel with a frightening speed, intent on finishing him off.

Launching himself at the creature, Loghain used his bulk and momentum to knock the creature to the ground. He was quickly on his feet, thrusting his sword into the hatchling and pinning it to ground. Sigrun was immediately at Loghain's side, slicing the creature's throat with a blinding slash; its movements continued for a brief moment before falling still.

Lhiannon cast another fire spell at the remaining creatures, watching as they squealed and writhed in pain. Anders was also casting a spell of fire, overlapping Lhiannon's spell as her mana began to wane. The stench of burning corruption hung in the air around them. When the last of the creatures was dead, Lhiannon turned to regard her companions.

Sitting on a toppled stone column, Nathaniel pulled a healing flask from his pack, draining it in two gulps. Lhiannon could see the wounds on his leg beginning to knit themselves closed. She handed Anders a lyrium flask from her pack, both of them draining the concoction and feeling their mana begin to regenerate. As Anders drank a second one, Lhiannon walked up to Nathaniel and crouched down to examine the wounds on his leg. They had been fairly deep before Nathaniel drank the healing compound. Lhiannon rested her hand near the wound and chanted a healing spell, closing the wounds even further; Nathaniel sighed his thanks.

Lhiannon rose to her feet and turned to where Loghain stood behind her, armor covered in ichor and sweat dripping into his eyes as he examined her for injuries. She shook her gauntlet off and raised her hand to his face, cupping his cheek as she breathed a healing spell and stroked his skin lightly with her thumb. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch; a moment of peace in this place of corruption and death. "Better?" she asked, a small grin on her face. Loghain grinned back at her. "Much," he agreed.

As they continued through Kal'Hirol, the party found themselves nearing a large audience chamber. Through the doorway ahead of them, they heard voices. Loghain quietly beckoned the Grey Wardens and Sigrun into the shadows, wanting to keep out of sight while they observed what was happening beyond the door.

Inside the chamber, an enormous fiery golem stood holding what appeared to be another of the sentient darkspawn, similar to the creature that called itself the Withered, the one Lhiannon, Loghain, and Anders encountered on their first trip to Vigil's Keep. A second sentient darkspawn was in the room, clearly controlling the golem and mocking the captured darkspawn. Were there now _factions _of darkspawn to contend with? Lhiannon found the thought to be both insane and foreboding.

"The Architect isn't brave enough to come here and confront the Lost. Coward," the creature wheezed through its corrupted mouth. Lhiannon felt the revulsion crawling in her stomach as the taint in her blood roiled in the presence of the creatures.

"Once you are dead, the Architect will see that is has failed to destroy the Lost, and that the Mother will destroy _him_." The darkspawn waved the control rod and the golem took the captured creature in both hands, ripping the creature in two. Lhiannon gasped as the blood and tissue from the creature flew in multiple directions and spatters landed on the golem's skin.

Lhiannon looked at Loghain, jerking her head in the direction of the Lost; he nodded his agreement and the stepped out from the shadows, entering the chamber to confront the creature. The Lost turned and looked at them, a sneer crossing its corrupted face.

"What manner of trickery is this? I can sense you, but you are no darkspawn. Whatever trickery the Architect has planned, all will die as the Mother commands. Including you." With a wave of his hand, the golem charged and began to swing its large fists at the Grey Wardens. The Lost retreated to a corner of the room, beginning to cast powerful primal magic. Sigrun and Nathaniel went to flank the Lost in an effort to disrupt its spell casting, leaving Lhiannon, Loghain, and Anders to deal with the golem. The battle was long and everyone injured and burned, but in the end, Sigrun had taken down the Lost with a dagger to its corrupted heart. Lhiannon and Anders worked together to freeze the golem in place, overlapping their spells to weaken it. With a primal roar, Loghain dropped his shield to swing his sword with both hands, delivering a deathblow to the golem that sent its frozen head flying across the chamber.

In the silence that followed the battle, Sigrun's sharp ears heard the telltale signs of labored breathing and the rustling of tentacles. "The broodmothers are nearby," she whispered to them, indicating the hallway at the end of the chamber. Lhiannon, nursing a sprained arm, urged the Grey Wardens to press on.

"Anders, cast a spell over the group to heal us," she commanded quietly. "It doesn't have to be complete, just make it enough for us to see where these broodmothers are. We can retreat back to this chamber and continue healing if we need to."

Anders nodded, beginning his chant and within moments, a subtle blue glow settled over the group, the tickle of healing magic racing against their skin. Lhiannon turned and motioned for her Grey Wardens to follow. Nathaniel was still limping from his earlier injury. Loghain was nursing a large cut to his head that left streaks of blood on his armor and his long hair matted, but was relatively unscathed otherwise.

Sigrun led the way as they crept down the hallway. The room at the end of the hall held a large pit and they could hear the unmistakable sounds of broodmothers coming from the pit. They peered over the edge and could see at least four of them at the bottom of the pit. Loghain felt the bile rising from his stomach in revulsion at the bloated, tainted creatures. They were ravenously devouring what appeared to be darkspawn flesh, the sounds of their eating—and what they were eating—causing a pit to form in Loghain's stomach. He now understood why Lhiannon had given him the order she did; to be turned into one of these creatures whose solitary focus was to consume tainted flesh and then birth darkspawn would be a fate worse than death.

The room held a mechanism that could raise and lower the floor of the pit with large chains, bringing the broodmothers to the top of the pit when necessary. Nathaniel examined the chains carefully. "If we sever these," he surmised, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "the chains will fall into the pit. They are heavy enough where I bet they will do some major damage to those broodmothers without us ever having to get close to them."

"Hey, that's a great idea!" Sigrun exclaimed, slapping Nathaniel on the back and eliciting a grunt of surprise from him. "Broodmothers are all but immobile, so they won't be able to move fast enough to avoid the chains."

Lhiannon looked at Loghain, who raised his eyebrows at her. "Sounds plausible," he said.

"Do it then," Lhiannon said, watching as Nathaniel and Sigrun examined the mechanism holding the chains in place. Within moments, they had pulled several components from the mechanism and the chain snapped, rattling loudly through the chamber as it fell. It landed with both a thud and a crash in the pit below, the screaming of broodmothers rising from the pit to assault their ears. Nathaniel and Sigrun quickly moved to another mechanism, sabotaging it and sending a second chain crashing into the pit. When the noise of the chains stopped, the pit had grown silent. Lhiannon closed her eyes and reached out with her tainted senses, but could feel no further darkspawn nearby. Peering over the side of the pit, she saw the chains piled on top of the dead broodmothers. The slight twitching of tentacles was the only movement she saw from the pit.

"I think we did it," she grinned, breathing a great sigh of relief as she brought her gaze back to her companions.

Loghain came to stand by her side. "Then may I suggest, Commander, that we leave this place?" Lhiannon wholeheartedly agreed. "Point me to the door."

As the Grey Wardens neared the surface of the Deep Roads, Lhiannon noticed that Sigrun had fallen a few steps behind, a look of concern on her face. Lhiannon stopped and turned to regard Sigrun, the others stopping as well.

"Sigrun, what is it?" Lhiannon asked.

Sigrun looked at Lhiannon with wide eyes. "Can you really burn up in the sun? You know, catch fire?"

Lhiannon chuckled, smiling at the dwarf. "You don't spontaneously combust or turn black, but you can get a sunburn. It's nothing too serious though." Lhiannon saw Sigrun relax a bit; she reached out and put a hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Not to worry though, I can heal up any sunburn you get."

A scoff from behind her drew Lhiannon's attention. Loghain stood near the entrance, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his breastplate. One side of his mouth turned up in a grin as he watched the exchange between Lhiannon and Sigrun.

"What's he snickering about?" Sigrun asked, jerking a thumb in Loghain's direction.

Lhiannon turned from Sigrun and gave Loghain an exasperated look, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Oh, Warden Loghain finds it rather amusing that I have only mastered basic healing spells."

Loghain's gaze moved from Lhiannon to Sigrun, his brows raised in amusement. "Sigrun, be thankful that Anders is here. We would have died from simple infections long ago had he not been."

Sigrun's laugh was bubbly and light, and Lhiannon found herself laughing along with her.

* * *

_The darkness around her felt like a shroud, heavy and thick with choking dust. She felt herself slung over something that moved with a slow, shuffling gait, causing her body to sway in time with the movements. The skin on her face brushed up against something rough; the smell of corruption assailing her senses. She tried to raise her head but found it was too heavy with the blood that had rushed to it. She heard groans from around her; masculine groans filled with exhaustion._

_"Loghain?" Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and her lips moved sluggishly. She felt herself being lowered onto her back, the cold surface making her shiver uncontrollably. There was a buzzing in her head, the sound making her dizzy; it felt like her teeth were vibrating in her skull from the resonance the buzzing caused around her. The click of metal on metal close by drew her curious attention. She sensed something looming over her and she slowly opened her eyes._

_The blurry figure of a barely humanoid face looked into her eyes. She drew breath to scream, but found herself hurtling toward a black abyss before she could give voice to her horror._

Lhiannon woke with a start, gasping aloud as her eyes flew open. She was confused at first by the rocky cliff face ahead of her before she remembered that they were in camp. The party had made camp among an outcropping of rocks not far from the Deep Roads entrance they had climbed out of. It had been late in the afternoon when they emerged from the Deep Roads and they had made the decision to make camp right away rather than begin the journey back to Vigil's Keep only to stop an hour or two into the trip. The outcropping would provide some shelter as well as reflect the heat from their campfire back at them. Nathaniel offered to take watch as the others slept, sitting on a nearby boulder with his bow resting on his legs.

Loghain was huddled in his blankets, his back toward the fire. Lhiannon offered him the spot closest to the fire as they prepared for bed. "Your bones will appreciate the heat more than mine," she had teased, pulling her blankets around her as she faced him from her bedroll.

"Madam, you truly need to learn respect for your elders," he grumbled, pulling the blankets of his bedroll up to cover himself as they settled down to rest. Sigrun had given them a curious glance, unaware of the relationship between the two Wardens until Anders quietly whispered into Sigrun's ear. The dwarf had looked at Lhiannon and Loghain again, giggling at the revelation. _These cloudheads are pretty weird,_ she thought to herself.

Loghain sensed Lhiannon's startled shudder through his sleep; he opened bleary eyes to regard her with concern. "Lhiannon, are you all right?" he mumbled, fighting through the sleepy haze in his head. She turned to face Loghain, reaching over and brushing his mussed, unbraided hair out of his face with gentle fingers. "Yes, I'm fine," she nodded. "It was just a weird dream."

"Darkspawn?" Loghain asked, a troubled look crossing his features. He brought his arm up from under his head, propping it up as he looked at Lhiannon. If the dreams were ramping up again, that was a bad sign indeed. Ferelden was on no shape to fight off another threat from the darkspawn so soon after the Blight.

"I'm not sure," Lhiannon said, her face bearing a look of confusion. "It was all pretty hazy. Not unlike dreams that I've had in the past, before becoming a Grey Warden. Fade dreams can be rather strange."

Reaching out, Loghain pulled her to his side, settling back down on the bedroll and pulling the blankets up over the two of them before wrapping his arm around her waist. She leaned in and lightly kissed his lips before settling down beside him, one arm curled beneath her head and the other resting across Loghain's waist. It did not take long for her breathing to fall back into the regular rhythm of sleep. For Loghain, however, sleep was more difficult in coming. He had not had any major darkspawn dreams since the archdemon fell; he still had them, but they were benign compared to the dreams he had endured just before the dragon's fall. Since neither he nor the other Grey Wardens had mentioned an increase in the frequency or intensity of the darkspawn dreams, it was indeed possible that Lhiannon's dream was simply one from the Fade. He leaned over and placed a light kiss on her head before settling down to return to sleep; before long, his breathing became deep and even, matching the pace set by Lhiannon's own breaths.

* * *

_Many thanks to everyone who is reading, lurking, bookmarking, and reviewing. I'm happy to have you all aboard and am flattered that you have enjoyed my tale thus far. Special thanks to reviewers Shakespira, Arsinoe, and Gene; I appreciate it, as always!_

_In this new year, I'm looking to wrap up this story and begin a sequel. Things could slow down a bit in a couple of months, as I'll have to take a number of business trips to Minneapolis come springtime; but that's what the smart phone is for! :) I also have a quick Alistair story running amok in my head, so that may be coming out once this story is finished.  
_

_Happy New Year to everyone!  
_


	32. I Will Not Cower

"So, what do you think about becoming a Grey Warden, Sigrun?"

Sigrun rode pillion on Lhiannon's horse, slightly nervous with the prospect. She was not nervous about becoming a Grey Warden, but with riding a horse. It was bad enough to be on the surface, but to now be off the ground on a horse was almost too much. Sigrun's face blanched and she tightly closed her eyes, holding on to Lhiannon's waist even tighter than before.

"Oh, I'm just fine with being a Grey Warden. I'm already dead, so what's drinking a little darkspawn blood? I'm more concerned about being so high off the ground right now." Sigrun turned her face to the sky, one eye peering open to see the sun above them. She quickly squeezed her eye shut again. "I'm still not convinced that I won't fry like a nug steak under that sun."

Lhiannon laughed, pulling a hand off the reins and patting Sigrun's hand at her waist. "You'll be fine, Sigrun. You'll be back to killing darkspawn in no time."

Anders pulled his horse up beside Lhiannon's, looking at the squeamish Sigrun. "This probably isn't the best time to tell you, but your skin _can_ change colors under the sun, Sigrun."

"_What?"_ the dwarf cried in disbelief, nearly pulling both herself and Lhiannon off the horse as she tried to pull her Lhiannon's cloak over her head. _No way am I turning colors!_

"Anders, you're such a little brat," Lhiannon scoffed, grabbing onto the pommel of her horse to keep herself and Sigrun in the saddle. She turned her head back over her shoulder, seeing that Sigrun had been successful in pulling Lhiannon's cloak over her head. "He's talking about a _tan_, Sigrun. The sun will slightly darken your skin if you spend enough time out in it. It's not permanent." Lhiannon shot a glare at Anders, who smirked and chuckled. "And it's _not_ dangerous. Anders is just trying to be silly and doing a poor job of it."

Anders held up his hands in supplication. "Hey, just wanted to let her know up front before she sees it for herself and freaks out. _You _can try and explain tan lines."

"I _do not_ freak out!" Sigrun squeaked from under the cloak. "Sodding cloudhead. I should have left you for the darkspawn."

* * *

The angry rumble of a crowd could be heard before the Grey Wardens had even passed through the gate of Vigil's Keep on their return. Several people in the crowd saw the Grey Wardens approaching and began to grumble and shout angrily at Lhiannon, their fingers pointing at her accusingly. Loghain moved to put himself between Lhiannon and the crowd as Sigrun, Nathaniel, and Anders also closed in around her. As they passed, the crowd's grumbling threatened to turn into outright revolt.

"What in the bloody hell is going on here?" Lhiannon grumbled quietly. "It's not enough that we have the darkspawn to contend with, but now we have a bloody revolution on our hands?"

"Let's get to the Vigil. Hopefully Varel can tell us what is going on," Loghain urged, taking Lhiannon by the elbow and pulling her along more quickly. He was moving so fast that Lhiannon nearly had to jog to keep up; turning her head she saw a nervous looking Sigrun already jogging, sticking close to Nathaniel's side and looking at the agitated crowd of humans warily.

Loghain maneuvered them on a straight path to the steps of Vigil's Keep, where a very grim looking Varel stood next to an angry Captain Garavel. Both had been pleading with the assembled crowd, trying to diffuse the increasingly volatile situation with little success. Varel relaxed visibly when he saw Loghain's imposing form approaching the Vigil's steps.

"Commander, I am relieved to see you," Varel said, his exasperation clearly evident in his voice. "The situation here is getting entirely out of hand."

Lhiannon, flanked by Varel and Loghain, turned and looked out at the crowd massing in front of Vigil's Keep. Some were shaking their fists at Lhiannon, pointing at her with dark malevolence on their faces. Others watched her cautiously, unsure of what she, or they, would do. Their angry shouts assailed her ears

"The darkspawn have been spotted just outside Amaranthine! And you do nothing!"

"Where are the soldiers to protect us?"

"Arl Howe would have destroyed the darkspawn by now!"

"You only care about the Grey Wardens! You don't care about the common people!"

"The darkspawn are everywhere!"

Varel turned and lowered his head toward Lhiannon's ear so he could be heard over the angry shouts of the people. "Commander, this must be part of the conspiracy against you. I _know_ the people of Amaranthine. They would never rise up on their own like this, not without some sort of urging, be it with coin or other promises. I would eat the sole of my boot if they did so on their own. Perhaps you could say a few words to calm them."

Captain Garavel came to stand between Lhiannon and Loghain, leaning close to Lhiannon's ear as Varel did. Loghain also leaned in to hear. "Commander, you don't coddle revolts like this. You put them down, forcefully if necessary."

"Garavel speaks truthfully," Loghain agreed, warily eyeing the crowd as they began to slowly push closer to the steps of the Vigil. "As much as the thought may disgust you, force may be necessary here."

"Just say the word, Commander," Garavel urged, fingering the hilt of his sword. "Give me the order and I'll stop this madness right here."

Lhiannon turned to glare at both Garavel and Loghain. "I _will not_ raise our weapons against these people, not if I can help it. Their reaction is due to fear; fear of the darkspawn and fear of whatever poison the conspirators are pouring into their ears. Let me try speaking to them first."

Lhiannon heard Loghain and Garavel's unhappy grunts of assent as she stepped toward the crowd. She raised her hands in the air, beckoning them to hear her. "Everyone! We need to stand together to face this threat! Now more than ever."

"What about the city?" a large man shouted, shoving his way to the front to loom over Lhiannon threateningly. Lhiannon heard Loghain and Garavel take a step toward her, feeling Loghain's concern and anger through the taint. The slight sound of metal on metal could be heard behind her as swords were slightly pulled from their scabbards. She raised a hand to Loghain and Garavel, her gesture demanding calm.

"We are doing our best to allocate soldiers among areas of the arling that need assistance," Lhiannon said, her voice carrying through the crowd. "But you must also understand this: if Vigil's Keep falls, the city of Amaranthine will also fall in short order. The ranks of the Grey Wardens are growing; we are all working to cleanse Ferelden of the remaining darkspawn. I won't leave you to face the darkspawn alone, I promise you."

As a hushed murmur ran through the crowd, a woman came forward, pulling on the arm of the man looming over Lhiannon. "Step back, Edwin. The Commander speaks sensibly. She and the Grey Wardens are doing what they can to help us. Let's go home."

"What? No! The Commander has to…"

"Edwin," the woman said sharply, jerking the man's arm toward the gates of Vigil's Keep. "We are going home." The woman turned, pulling the man along with her. Lhiannon saw with great relief that many of the people had begun to walk way, the tension in the air falling rapidly. A few people remained behind however, glaring at Lhiannon and the others before stalking off through the gates of the keep. Lhiannon thought she recognized a couple of the faces, but could not place them off the top of her head.

Lhiannon heard a heavy sigh of relief from behind her and turned to see Varel running his fingers through his hair. "I don't know how you managed to do it, Commander, but thank the Maker for your smooth tongue."

Lhiannon shrugged, grinning at her seneschal. "I only spoke the truth. It's a gift, I guess."

"Well, that's one problem out of the way then," Garavel grumbled from his place near Varel. The Grey Wardens turned to look at Varel, confusion on their faces. "One problem?" Loghain growled.

"Some of the nobles are here demanding and audience with you, Commander, refusing to leave until they have spoken to you," Varel explained. "I don't care for it either."

"How so?" Lhiannon asked, suspicion crawling through her stomach and up her spine.

"Bann Esmerelle is at the head of the group," Varel explained. "She's in her heavy armor."

"Sounds like she's spoiling for a fight," Nathaniel said, fingering the hilt of the dagger he kept on his belt. "Shall we give her one?"

"Only if she forces the issue," Lhiannon said, turning and climbing the steps to Vigil's Keep. As she heard the footsteps of her companions behind her, she wondered if _for once_ she would ever return to the Vigil and find peace and quiet, her only concern what scented oil to put in her bath water.

* * *

"Bann Esmerelle, it's good to see you again," Lhiannon called out as she entered the Vigil's audience chamber. Esmerelle turned from near the brazier in the center of the hall, the light from the flames making her heavy armor glimmer. The brazier was the only light source in the room, casting the far walls and corners into deep shadows.

Loghain stood back near the door, having motioned Varel to follow Lhiannon toward the small group of nobles gathered in the room. Garavel stood at his side, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Loghain's cool eyes surveyed the room, seeing two other nobles near Esmerelle. He recognized the hulking form of Ser Temmerly; Loghain scowled, knowing they should have killed him when they had the chance after the oath taking ceremony. There was also a younger woman with them he did not recognize but was clearly a minor noble.

"Commander Lhiannon," Esmerelle said, her voice cool and measured. Lhiannon noticed that the Bann's hand was not far from the hilt of her weapon. Not letting that distract her, Lhiannon calmly approached the Bann, Varel's armored footsteps beside her a great comfort, as was Loghain's imposing presence at the door.

"What can I do for you today?" Lhiannon asked, trying to keep her bubbling anger from showing and her voice calm.

"I am here about the good Arl," Esmerelle growled, her eyes flashing with rage as they narrowed at Lhiannon. "The good Arl that _you_ murdered."

"Is that so?" Lhiannon said, crossing her arms against her breastplate. She heard Varel snort indignantly beside her. "So you are still loyal to Rendon Howe then?" Varel bristled. "Even after all he has done against the Arlessa herself and the citizens of Ferelden?"

"You will not speak of him in such a manner," Esmerelle spat at Varel. "He should have executed you for helping his adversaries; I certainly would have. Rendon was a good Arl. He was good to me."

"Only because you did him, shall we say, certain _favors_," Loghain quipped from his place near the door. Esmerelle looked toward Loghain, her face pinched in anger as she narrowed her eyes at him. "He used you like he used everyone around him," Loghain continued. "Rendon Howe did very little out of the kindness of his heart."

"I am actually beginning to think he didn't have one," Nathaniel added from his place near Loghain.

Esmerelle turned back to Lhiannon, a malicious smirk crossing her face. "I have vowed to avenge his death, and so I shall." Lhiannon heard the unmistakable twang of a crossbow and heard Varel hiss in pain beside her. She turned and saw a bolt sticking out of his forearm, Varel looking at it in shock and disbelief. Esmerelle drew her sword and lunged at Lhiannon, who quickly dodged the swing. Lhiannon quickly pulled Spellweaver in time to deflect Esmerelle's oncoming blade.

Loghain sprung from his place near the door, Garvel quickly at his side, and launched himself toward the hulking form of Ser Temmerly. Loghain knew that he was considered an imposing figure of a man, but Ser Temmerly made Loghain look like a mere boy. Temmerly swung a great two-handed sword, the shock of the impact to Loghain's shield nearly bowling him over. Loghain heard Garavel flanking Temmerly, slashing at him with his own sword. Loghain caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw a lithe woman with the markings of a Crow assassin attempting to flank Lhiannon. Before he could shout a warning to her, an arrow appeared in the side of her neck, the blood pouring from the wound as the woman fell. Loghain turned to see Nathaniel quickly firing another arrow into a second assassin that had emerged from the shadows.

Lhiannon traded blows with Esmerelle for several minutes, channeling her magic more forcefully until finally she overwhelmed Esmerelle and ran her through with Spellweaver. Esmerelle's eyes went wide as the blood began to trickle out of her mouth. Lhiannon grabbed Esmerelle's shoulder, pulling her closer and running Spellweaver more deeply into her.

"This is what happens to traitorous bitches like yourself," Lhiannon growled into the Bann's ear before shoving Esmerelle away and off of Spellweaver. Esmerelle crumpled to the ground, looking up at Lhiannon. She suddenly began to chuckle, the bright red blood spraying from her mouth in droplets as the sounds of fighting began to fade around them.

"If you think your troubles end with my death, mage, you are sorely mistaken," Esmerelle croaked, coughing on the blood pooling in her mouth. She took a wheezing breath and even Loghain could hear the rattling in her chest from across the room. "Your troubles have not yet begun, I think. You have no idea who is after you and the grand game they play." Esmerelle chuckled, then coughed weakly. She took one last hitching breath and was still, the life draining from her eyes as Lhiannon watched.

A quick look around the room told Lhiannon that those who ambushed them were dead. She watched Garavel pull his sword out of the body of Ser Temmerly. Loghain had just calmly ran a dying Crow assassin through with his blade as Nathaniel and Sigrun stared down at another assassin lying dead at their feet. Anders quickly ran across the room to where Varel had slumped to the floor, holding his impaled arm, his face pale with shock. "How is he?" Lhiannon asked Anders, concern heavy in her voice as she hunkered down next to Varel.

"It's looks worse than it is, Lhi," he said, turning Varel's arm to get a closer look at the wound, the seneschal grimacing in pain. "He's going to be just fine."

"No worries, Commander," Varel groaned weakly, giving Lhiannon a wink as he did so. Lhiannon smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder as Anders quickly pulled the bolt from his arm. Lhiannon looked at Varel, a small smile playing across her face. "Heal up quickly, Varel. We have a Joining to perform and I know you wouldn't want to miss it." Varel scoffed and grinned as Lhiannon stood and saw Garavel, Loghain, and Nathaniel standing over the body of Bann Esmerelle.

"I wonder what she meant," Garavel said to Loghain, sheathing his sword and rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"I care not for her use of the term 'grand game'," Loghain growled.

"I can't believe Esmerelle was involved in this scheme, Commander," Garavel said, turning to Lhiannon and shaking his head. "I knew she had wanted to become Arlessa, but I never thought she would go to these lengths."

"I agree with Loghain," Lhiannon said, pulling a rag from her armor and wiping Spellweaver off with it. "I don't think my troubles with conspirators are over yet."

"Paranoid, Lhi?" Anders asked with a grin, turning back to Varel and casting a second healing spell on his arm.

"Better a little paranoid than a lot dead," Lhiannon scoffed.

"There is still the meeting at the old Stark Farm," Varel said from his place on the floor, his voice sounding stronger with the healing. "That meeting is to take place in a few days, unless things have changed with this little incident."

"Perhaps we should head there now in case they have moved their plans forward more quickly," Nathaniel suggested.

Lhiannon mulled Nathaniel's suggestion over for a moment. "That may not be a bad idea. But first, we need to perform Sigrun's Joining." She looked to Varel, whom Anders' had just helped pull to his feet. Varel looked a little pale yet, but stronger than he did a few minutes ago.

"I can prepare the Joining, Commander," Varel insisted, standing straighter as he looked at Lhiannon. "I don't need all my strength to do that."

Lhiannon nodded. "Then prepare the Joining immediately."

* * *

Lhiannon sat at her desk in her office a short while later, having cleaned up after the incident with Esmerelle. She had exchanged her heavy armor for a simple dress of crimson, its fabric falling softly along her curves. Sigrun was recuperating in the barracks after her successful Joining. Another Grey Warden added to their ranks, bringing the number of Ferelden Wardens up to a blistering seven. They were going to need more than that; she wanted to have a number of Wardens here at Vigil's Keep and others scattered throughout the major cities and towns in Ferelden. Seven was still far too few.

A knock on the door drew her attention. Loghain stood in the doorway, a slight scowl on his face. Lhiannon was expecting this; she knew it would be likely that he would protest her going to face the conspirators at the abandoned farm, given what nearly happened in Denerim. She had no intention of staying behind however, cowering behind the Vigil's walls. Loghain thought her remaining behind was pragmatic; she thought it cowardly.

"Come in Loghain," Lhiannon said, indicating a chair near her desk. He settled his long frame into it, staring at her intently as he sat. She noticed that he also had taken a bath at some point after the skirmish in the audience hall. His hair was still damp and he smelled like the soap that the servants made in the bowels of the Vigil. He had exchanged his armor for his usual longshirt and leather trousers.

"You should remain here while we investigate the abandoned farm," he said, coming directly to the point, his voice hard. It was the tone he used when he wanted to convey that he would accept no arguments on the matter. Lhiannon ignored it.

"And what is your reason I should remain behind, Second?" she said, calmly settling back into her chair and waiting for Loghain's reason. The features of his face grew even harder, his concern for her plainly evident. "Surely you haven't forgotten what happened in Denerim?" he said, his eyes narrowing at her. "Your presence would be too tempting a target should they find you there."

"I have told you before, Loghain, that I will not cower behind the walls of Vigil's Keep."

"It is not cowering," he growled at her, standing up and walking over to the map on the wall of her office. He stared at the location Varel had marked indicating where the abandoned farm was. "It is being realistic. You will be safe here."

Lhiannon stood, moving around to stand next to Loghain, looking at him indignantly. "I'm going, Loghain, and that is final."

He suddenly turned, grabbing her by her shoulders and glaring at her. "Why must you be so obstinate about this? Staying here within the Vigil, with the soldiers around you, is where you belong while these people hunt you. I will not stand by and watch these conspirators continue to come after you."

Lhiannon felt her anger rising and she shook Loghain's hands off her shoulders. "Why must you constantly question my orders, Loghain? Is it because I don't have the experience as a Commander that you have? Is it because you don't trust in my judgment?"

"As your Second, it is my _duty_ to question your orders when I feel they are not the best course of action," he spat at her, his eyes narrowing. "I said _nothing_ about experience or trust, _Commander._"

Lhiannon gritted her teeth, pointing to herself in emphasis. "This is _my_ _duty_, Loghain. I need to protect the arling, the Grey Wardens, and myself. If the conspirators succeed in their quest, they will destabilize this entire arling. How long do you think it will take to spread from here to the rest of Ferelden? Regardless of the face we show the rest of Thedas, Ferelden is very fragile right now. The Blight did far more harm than just destroy Lothering and damage the countryside and the capital. That's why Anora named you Teyrn again; to keep Ferelden stable."

"I know that," Loghain bristled at her, "I have bore witness to such things since before you were born." He reached forward and pulled her close, gently this time. She held herself stiffly at first, but then he felt her arms wrap around his waist and her head settle on his chest. He rested his chin on her head, her hair tickling his skin.

"I have watched you nearly die twice now. I do not wish to see it a third time," Loghain said to her, the hardness that was in his voice earlier melting away.

Lhiannon tightened her arms around Loghain's waist, listening to the steady, comforting, strong beat of his heart. She listened for a moment before standing on her toes and softly kissing his lips.

"Loghain, I do love you, but you cannot talk me out of going to the Stark farm. This is something I must see and do." She watched a frown form on his face, drawing his mouth down and creasing his skin. She softly smoothed the creases with her thumbs, kissing the ones at the corners of his mouth. "I would not go without you, of course," she said, returning her head to his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

His indignant scoff nearly brought a grin to her face. "In that matter, you have no choice," he said quietly.

Lhiannon stepped back from him, grasping his hands in hers as she pulled away. "Then gather the Wardens along with Garavel and Varel. We need to make plans." He kissed each of her hands in turn before leaving to summon the others.

* * *

The Grey Wardens lay on their stomachs atop a small rise overlooking the abandoned farm, the small number of soldiers from Vigil's Keep a number of yards behind them, hidden amongst the trees. Loghain had an uncanny sense of direction, leading them to the farm with a tiny map and hardly a second guess. He had a passing familiarity with the area, having spent some time in the arling during the war against the Orlesians. But even with just a basic familiarity, his direction was true.

Garavel had sent a small number of scouts to the location two days ago to reconnoiter and report back their findings. Lhiannon and the other Wardens had met with one of the scouts on the way to the farm. The scout saw a number of riders coming in off the North Road. Others appeared to be coming from the direction of Denerim.

The scout had one bit of news that Lhiannon found disheartening. The scout had been hiding in a hollow tree just next to the North Road, watching riders that approached the overgrown path leading to the abandoned farm. One rider was wearing armor bearing the herald of Redcliffe; only those in the direct service of the Arl wore that standard. Loghain had sworn viciously when the scout reported that news.

The farmhouse was dilapidated, shingles missing from the roof and shutters hanging askew. From their vantage point on the rise, Lhiannon could see a number of people scurrying about. They were concentrated in a small barn; it was plain to see that some care had been given to that building. It still looked run down from the outside, but all the windows were intact and the doors looked solid. Clearly, this farm was not as abandoned as was believed.

"Looks awful busy down there," Anders said, nervousness coloring his words. Nathaniel lay at Anders' side, carefully fingering his bow.

Lhiannon turned to Loghain, who lay on the ground next to her. "What do you think is the best way to go about this?"

Loghain studied the layout of the farm, noting the main path in and looking for other likely exits. "We should have soldiers stationed along the main path, for one. At whatever point we enter the farm, soldiers should enter on the opposite side to flank anyone trying to escape."

Lhiannon nodded. "Give the order then. Once the soldiers signal that they are in position, we'll go down there and see if we can end this conspiracy once and for all."

The signal came from the far side of the farm not long after. The Vigil's troops had been split into thirds; one part was stationed along the main path to watch for fleeing conspirators. Lhiannon and Nathaniel had another group with them on their side of the farm while Loghain and Anders had taken the remainder to a position opposite them on a small rise. Each group had orders to take whatever prisoners they could so that they could be interrogated with the hope of finding the root of the conspiracy. The flashing of sunlight off a sword told Lhiannon that they were ready. With a wave of her hand, her group of soldiers began to creep down the rise into the farm; she looked up to see Loghain leading his group toward them. Hopefully their vice would work.

The Grey Wardens and their troops had made it into the heart of the farm, surrounding the main barn and prepared to call out for the conspirators to surrender themselves. Lhiannon stood facing the main door while Nathaniel's eyes scanned the farm behind them, looking for anyone trying to get the drop on them.

"In the name of the Arlessa of Amaranthine, you are ordered to surrender yourselves," the soldier to Lhiannon's left called out. "Come out and face justice."

They heard movement from inside the barn and Lhiannon's hand moved to the hilt of Spellweaver, pulling it slightly from its scabbard. The large doors began to open and she could see a number of people gathered inside the barn. She had been especially interested in who could be here from Redcliffe, but Lhiannon noticed that the person had a full helmet on, obscuring their identity. Not a good sign. As the door continued to open, she felt magical energies coalescing around them and saw a mage calling upon the power at the back of the group.

"Arm yourselves! They attack!" Lhiannon shouted, pulling Spellweaver as a subtle magical cloud settled around them. As Lhiannon watched, some of the soldiers around her began to sink to their knees, unable to hold themselves upright in their heavy armor. She could feel the power threatening to subdue her, but she was able to channel her mana into strength, resisting the pull of the spell. She recognized the spell as one of weakness and shouted for the others to fight it. Conspirators began to pour out of the barn, shouting battle cries as they did so.

Loghain and Anders took their men and began to move around to the front of the barn to reinforce Lhiannon and her troops. Anders saw that some of Lhiannon's men had been incapacitated with a spell and shouted a warning to Loghain. They had reached the front of the barn and began to engage the conspirators. As Loghain was running through one of the conspirators with his sword, he felt his body weakening. A prickle of magic was running across his skin; he knew it was no healing magic. Where healing magic left a tickle, this spell left a sting like biting insects. Suddenly, his vision began to blur and he felt his knees buckling. Try as he might, he was unable to remain standing. As he sank toward the ground, he shouted with what strength he had remaining. "Commander!"

At the sound of her title, Lhiannon spun about and saw Loghain sinking to his knees. As she moved toward him, a conspirator came charging at her, oversized hammer held high overhead. Lhiannon waited until he began to swing before darting to the side, tripping him with the flat side of her sword as his momentum carried him down. As he landed on the ground, she ran him through. Pulling her sword from the dead man's back, she ran to Loghain. He was lying on the ground, his skin turning pale and his body shaking. Lhiannon could feel the magical energies around him and looked to see where the responsible mage was.

She found the mage standing between the main barn and a small shed, his hands moving in a spell that she recognized immediately. The mage had cast a spell binding Loghain to him, leeching Loghain's life force to supplement his own. Lhiannon growled, turning to Loghain and casting a counter spell on him.

It failed.

She breathed it again, fighting the fear that began to settle itself in her stomach. She channeled all the power she could, feeling it travel through her hand and into Loghain, but it was not working. Loghain's eyes remained unfocused and he started to shake. Lhiannon looked about, finding Anders not far away casting a healing spell toward their soldiers.

"Anders!" Lhiannon shouted, standing up and gesturing to him. "To me!"

Hearing Lhiannon's cry, Anders completed the spell and rushed over, seeing the convulsing form of Loghain at her feet. He quickly knelt down and began chanting. Lhiannon noticed that he was chanting a powerful healing spell, trying to stay ahead of the mage draining Loghain's life force.

"_Do not_ die on me, Loghain," Lhiannon growled at him, fighting the burning tears in her eyes and the lump in her throat. "_Do. Not. Dare._"

Two conspirators began to race toward them, murder in their eyes as they saw Lhiannon standing over Loghain and Anders. "I have had enough of this," Lhiannon growled, holding Spellweaver at the ready as the first conspirator lunged at her. She turned to the side as he lunged, kicking him away and blasting him with a magical bolt to his back. The second conspirator was already on top of her, swinging his sword. Lhiannon did not move fast enough and the sword bit into her hip, slicing through her heavy armor with ease and stopped only when it reached her bone. She screamed in pain as she raised her sword to the attacker, plunging Spellweaver into his throat. Gurgling, the man took several steps away before falling over. She glanced at the fallen man's sword; it glowed with an enchantment. _No wonder it cut so easily,_ Lhiannon thought.

By this time, the first attacker had regained his senses after being hit by Lhiannon's magical bolt. He picked up his sword and brandished it in front of him, sneering at her. "You'll catch a fine price with our benefactors," he sneered at her. "Give it up now, Warden."

"I think not," Lhiannon snarled, a jet of flame erupting from her outstretched hand and engulfing the attacker. He ran away, screaming, before Lhiannon quickly cast a spell of ice on him. The man fell over and was still.

"Lhiannon," Anders said, his voice strained. Lhiannon turned to look down at Anders as he worked on Loghain. Loghain was still very pale and convulsing slightly, Anders draining a lyrium flask as she watched. Sweat was beading on his forehead and running down his temples. "You need to kill that mage, quickly. Loghain isn't responding to my healing fast enough."

As she looked around, Lhiannon saw that the conspirators were overwhelming her troops, thanks to the spell of weakness the mage had cast. Though she needed to stop the mage draining Loghain's life force, the soldiers were the more immediate concern.

"I am _fucking_ _sick_ _and_ _tired_ of Maker damned conspirators," she snarled, turning and angrily marching toward the barn, growling the words to a spell as she walked. She cast a powerful lightning spell and aimed it at a group of conspirators closing in on the soldiers, roaring as the bolts left her outstretched hand, fed by her anguish and rage. The lightning jumped from enemy to enemy, their bodies convulsing as the lightning traveled along their heavy armor. They fell over, still shaking as they landed on the ground. Acrid smoke began to rise from their bodies.

Leaping over their convulsing bodies, Lhiannon turned to try and flank the mage casting the curse of mortality spell on Loghain. She limped around the small outbuilding, feeling the magical energies crawl along her skin the closer she crept to the mage. She had to end his life quickly; if she did not, he would continue to leech Loghain's own life force until he had absorbed it all. She peeked around the shed, seeing the mage only a few feet ahead of her. She quietly stepped out from behind the shed and with a swing of her sword, the mage's head flew off his shoulders, thumping the wall of the barn next to them as the body crumpled to the ground, spilling blood as it did so.

Lhiannon felt the magical energies abruptly fade. Jumping the headless body, she ran out to the front of the barn and saw her soldiers quickly turning the tables on the conspirators now that the spell against them was broken. It was only a few minutes before the remaining conspirators lay dead or dying on the ground around the barn. One of the men that lay on the ground was the man bearing the standard of Redcliffe, moaning in pain and bleeding from multiple wounds.

"Nathaniel!" Lhiannon shouted, gesturing for him to come to her. "Help me bind this man. I need him alive."

Nathaniel nodded, pulling a length of rope from his pack. As they turned him over, Nathaniel quickly bound his hands while Lhiannon cast a healing spell on him. She wanted him alive, but not so healed as to be a threat.

"Secure any other prisoners that may live," Lhiannon ordered Nathaniel. "Tell the soldiers to secure the farm. Send a few of them back to Vigil's Keep with the news. I need to check on Loghain and Anders."

"Understood, Commander," Nathaniel said, pulling the groggy Redcliffe soldier to his feet and guiding him over to where the Vigil's soldiers gathered.

Lhiannon sheathed Spellweaver and sprinted to where Anders lay with Loghain. Anders looked up as she approached, his eyes wide as he saw the blood pouring out of Lhiannon's hip. She was becoming paler by the second, but the adrenaline in her system kept the wound oblivious to her.

"Lhi, you're bleeding," Anders said, pulling his hand from Loghain and pressing it to her hip. Lhiannon felt the tickle of magic begin to flow into her and she gently pushed his hand away.

"I'll be fine, Andy. How is Loghain?" Lhiannon looked down at him, concern spreading across her face. He had stopped convulsing, thank the Maker, but was still deathly pale. His eyes were closed and he did not stir when she knelt down and placed her hands on him.

"He's stable for now, but that mage drained a great deal of his life force. He can't make the trip back to the Vigil, not now anyway. We should stay here for a bit; he should be right as rain in a few days."

"Commander," came a shout from near the barn. Lhiannon turned to see Nathaniel and a soldier from the Vigil jogging toward her. "You need to come into the barn," Nathaniel said, gesturing toward the building behind them.

"What is it?" Lhiannon asked, looking up from where she was hunkered down next to Loghain. "What have you found?"

"Crates of enchanted weapons," Nathaniel said. "Most likely the ones being smuggled into the arling." He paused for a moment, raising his brows as he did so. "Lady Liza Packton was there as well."

"And where is she now? Captured?" Lhiannon asked.

"Dead," Nathaniel grinned. "Can't say I'm sorry about it."

Lhiannon nodded. "Give me a few minutes, Nate. I'll be along shortly."

"Will do, Commander." Nathaniel turned and gestured to the soldier beside him to follow him back to the barn. As they left, Lhiannon turned her attention back to Loghain. His breathing was becoming more regular and a small amount of color was returning to his features.

"Take him inside, Anders. Stay with him while I take care of things here."

Anders nodded, giving Lhiannon a smile. "He'll be fine, Lhi. I promise."

Lhiannon reached down and stroked Loghain's cheek tenderly before rising to her feet, steely resolve coming to her features. Their prisoner from Redcliffe had some explaining to do; by the Maker, she was going to get answers, one way or another.

* * *

_Special thanks to my reviewers Shakespira, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Gene Dark, and Dante Alighieri...your encouragement means a lot! And to you lurkers and readers...especially those who have bookmarked me and/or the story...THANK YOU!_

_Lhiannon's angry thrashing of the soldiers brought to you by Metallica's "Damage Incorporated", Limp Bizkit's "Break Stuff" and Sex Pistols' "Anarchy in the UK." All are pretty angry songs; perfect for Lhiannon's mood. :)  
_


	33. Unraveling the Strings

Loghain awoke to find himself laying on an old cot in an even older barn, the all too familiar tickle of healing magic deep in his chest and the smell of ancient animal dung around him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Anders sitting on the floor next to the cot, his hand on Loghain's shoulder and eyes closed in concentration as he murmured the words to the healing spell. Loghain's armor had been removed and sat in a haphazard pile on the floor next to Anders.

"Anders?" he choked out, his mouth dry and throat parched.

Anders' eyes flitted open as he finished the spell and drew his hand away. "Oh, hey Loghain. Glad to see you awake."

With a groan, Loghain swung his feet off the edge of the cot and sat up. He was immediately sorry that he did so as the world began to spiral out of control around him. His stomach lurched violently; Anders handed Loghain an ancient pail, which he immediately vomited into.

"Easy there, Loghain," Anders gently admonished, pulling the pail away from Loghain when it was clear he was finished. "That spell did quite a number on you."

Loghain eased himself back onto the cot with a sigh, throwing an arm over his eyes and cursing himself for being ill in front of the mage. "I take it we are still at the Stark farmstead?" he asked, willing the world to stop spinning and his stomach to stop roiling.

"We are at that. Lhiannon sent a few of the soldiers back to the Vigil with a report." Anders paused, his face becoming grave as he offered Loghain a flask of water. "We had casualties. She sent them back to the Vigil as well."

A grimace crossed Loghain's face as he rolled onto his side, propping himself up with an elbow. "How many?" he asked before taking a small sip of the water. It felt blessedly cool to his parched throat, though his stomach was not quite as appreciative; it lurched within him, but accepted the water for the time being. He closed his eyes again and willed his stomach to calm itself.

"A half dozen," Anders explained. "But Lhiannon said that was still a half dozen too many."

"Indeed. Speaking of Lhiannon, where is she?"

"She's in one of the other outbuildings, interrogating the prisoners."

Loghain's eyes opened and he turned his head toward Anders. "So, we captured some conspirators after all." He scoffed at Anders. "I certainly hope they answer her questions. She is a far more forgiving interrogator than I am."

Anders chuckled at Loghain, handing him a healing flask. "Drink this, Loghain. My mana needs to regenerate a bit and this will continue the healing process."

Loghain took the offered flask and slowly drank its bitter contents, grimacing as he did so. Again, his stomach began to protest, but accepted the fluid. He handed the empty flask back to Anders a minute later and lay back down, throwing his arm over his eyes again.

"You know," the mage began, replacing the stopper on the flask and putting it into his pack. "She was an absolute madwoman out there during the battle after you fell."

Loghain gave an inarticulate grunt, wishing the mage would simply be quiet while he tried to center himself. Anders did not take the hint; he simply leaned back, his hands behind him on the floor as he began chattering away. "She was casting the most powerful primal magic I've ever seen. She took out a number of them with one lightning spell. It jumped from person to person like I've never seen before. After they fell, she found the mage that was leeching your life force and beheaded him with one swing of her sword." Anders paused a moment, a grin pulling on one side of his face. "Did I mention she was bleeding from a large gash in her hip at the time? She was bleeding everywhere but it didn't even faze her."

The creaking of ancient hinges drew their attention to the door, where Lhiannon's weary form entered. Her face was streaked with dirt and sweat and wisps of her hair had come loose from the tie that held it. She turned toward the bed and when she saw Loghain was awake, she smiled and limped toward the cot. Loghain noticed a large gash in the metal of her armor; no doubt that was where the injury to her hip came from. Her limp was pronounced, as were the circles under her eyes. When she reached the cot, she dropped to her knees and grabbed his closest hand, clutching it as if she were afraid he would fade away unless he was anchored to her. She reached over with her other hand and smoothed the hair near his face; her fingers feather light on his skin. Anders took this hint; he quietly grabbed his pack, moving toward the door and outside.

"It's about time you woke up," Lhiannon grinned at him. "I was becoming jealous of you sleeping so much. What I wouldn't give for a nap right now."

Loghain scoffed. "Yes, far be it from me to participate in a battle." He began to sit up again, slowly this time. Lhiannon moved to kneel between his knees as Loghain's hands came to the sides of her face. She rested her hands on his knees, feeling the powerful muscles just below the leather of his trousers.

"Are you all right?" Lhiannon asked, the humor falling away from her face to be replaced with a deep concern. Loghain leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Anders says I will be," he said. Lhiannon brought her hands up to Loghain's face, pulling him gently to her and kissing him tenderly before resting her forehead against his.

"We've captured Lord Guy," Lhiannon said, pulling away so she could look at him.

"Has he told you anything useful?"

Lhiannon snorted. "You mean anything other than his undying devotion to Rendon Howe and his absolute hatred of me? No, not really."

Loghain snorted derisively. "Insufferable bastard. Anders said there were other prisoners?"

A dark shadow crossed Lhiannon's face. "One of the prisoners is a knight under Arl Eamon, Ser Tomas."

Loghain frowned. "That's not a name I recognize."

"That's because he was knighted only very recently," Lhiannon explained. "I met him during the Blight, when we first went to Redcliffe. When the Arl was incapacitated." She watched as Loghain merely nodded. "He met us at the city gates and took us to Teagan when we arrived that first time."

"If he's been knighted, then he reports directly to the Arl," Loghain said, a deep frown on his face. Lhiannon reached up and cupped his cheek; Loghain turned his head into it, her hand cool against the warm skin of his face.

"So, either someone else is pulling Tomas' strings..." Lhiannon began.

"Or the Arl himself is pulling them," Loghain frowned. "I care not for that."

Lhiannon reached into a gap in her armor, pulling out a sheet of parchment with a number of charcoal marks on it. "We found crates of enchanted weapons in the main barn."

A scowl crossed Loghain's face. "Were they the smuggled arms?"

Nodding, Lhiannon opened the parchment and showed it to Loghain. He saw Lhiannon's flowing script on the page. She had written down descriptions of the enchanted arms from the ledger they had brought back from Amaranthine. Many of the weapons listed had check marks next to them. Loghain examined the list carefully as she spoke. "Yes, many of the weapons match these descriptions. Now we know that the weapons were indeed headed for the conspirators." She pointed to the gash in her armor. "That's how I got this; an enchanted weapon cut right through it."

Loghain moved to stand; Lhiannon got to her feet and offered him her hand. He brushed it away, scowling lightly as he did so. She cast a healing spell on him and saw that he was looking steadier after he stood for a moment. He moved toward his armor, picking up a piece and beginning to don it.

"I want to question them," Loghain insisted.

Lhiannon frowned slightly. "Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

Loghain snorted derisively. "I've laid on that filthy cot long enough."

Lhiannon sighed, knowing arguing with Loghain would likely be pointless. _Obstinate man. _She helped buckle him into the remaining pieces of armor, then led him to the outbuilding containing the prisoners.

* * *

Lhiannon felt a small sense of relief at hearing the clang of the cell door securing Lord Guy and Ser Tomas in cells at Vigil's Keep. While Guy was refusing to provide any sort of information, Lhiannon could sense that they were close to a breakthrough with Tomas. Perhaps it was Loghain and Garavel's imposing forms and hard questioning that was breaking through.

When they arrived back at Vigil's Keep, Loghain had Guy and Tomas' confiscated belongings searched. Inside Tomas' armor, two folded pieces of parchment were found, the contents coded. Lhiannon, Loghain, and Garavel examined them in Loghain's office, their heads nearly touching as they all closely examined the letters. The paper was richly made, some of the highest quality to be found in Ferelden. As they continued to examine the documents, they saw faint embossing marks on the paper. They compared the pieces side by side. Someone had taken pains to try and smooth out the ridges, but they were still decipherable; the paper had been embossed with the crest of Redcliffe.

"I care not for this," Loghain growled. "This type of paper is commonly used in official correspondence; it must have originated within the castle." He snorted as he waved his hand at the paperwork. "Amateurish; using paper so easily identifiable."

Garavel pointed at a flaw in the paper. "I wonder if this flaw carried through the entire bundle of paper—these two notes clearly have it. If we could only see other pieces."

Lhiannon snorted. "I highly doubt the Arl will let us examine the paper in his castle without reason."

Loghain looked up from the papers on his desk. "We should pull Tomas aside and interrogate him without Guy nearby. Perhaps we can get more information from him without Guy's influence; have him tell us more about these letters."

"I agree," Lhiannon nodded. "Let's go talk to Tomas."

They could hear Lord Guy swearing and shouting insults as two guards brought a heavily chained Tomas into the outer chamber of the dungeon. Thankfully, closing the door between the two chambers muted Lord Guy's venomous shouting to a dull noise in the background. As the guards seated Tomas in a single chair, Lhiannon, Loghain, and Garavel all entered the room. Tomas looked warily between the three. No one spoke for several moments.

Lhiannon glared into Tomas' eyes. "I'm rather surprised to see you in this position, Tomas. I would never have expected it from you. You fought bravely against the undead in Redcliffe; I was honored to fight at your side in the village square."

Tomas lowered is gaze to the floor. Lhiannon thought she saw a brief look of sadness cross his features. "I am surprised as well, Warden."

Loghain pulled the two pieces of parchment from his armor and held them up in front of Tomas. "These were found in your armor," he began, his voice harsh and demanding. "We know the paper originated in Redcliffe castle. Who is your contact there?"

Tomas sighed heavily. Lhiannon saw him shaking slightly as if he were distressed. Loghain was ready to speak again but Lhiannon held up a hand to stop him briefly. "Tomas," she began softly. "You know the punishment for attempting to harm me, do you not?"

Tomas nodded slowly. "I do, Warden. Death awaits me."

"Indeed it does," Lhiannon agreed. "You were a great help to everyone in Redcliffe during the Blight. You're a more honorable man than this." Lhiannon looked at Tomas for a long moment, pondering her next move. "Do you have a family, Tomas?"

He nodded. "My wife is in Redcliffe. She's expecting our second."

Lhiannon turned to Loghain and Garavel, motioning them to move to the other side of the chamber with her. She lowered her voice so only they could hear. "We need the information he can provide; Guy obviously isn't going to cooperate. Tomas can't give information to us if he's dead."

"What are you planning?" Garavel asked.

"Exile," Lhiannon explained. "If he provides good, solid information about the conspiracy, I'll see that he's exiled rather than executed."

Loghain bristled, crossing his arms over his breastplate. "And just how do we assure he does not come back and finish what was started?"

"If he comes back to Ferelden, he will die," Lhiannon said. "He will remain imprisoned here until we know his information was true. If he deceives us, he goes to the gallows."

Lhiannon looked between Garavel and Loghain for their reactions. Loghain was less than pleased and Lhiannon could hardly fault him for it. Garavel looked thoughtful; he turned toward Loghain. "At this point, we don't have much else to go on. Guy won't give us information, so he'll head to the gallows as soon as the Commander pronounces his sentence and gives the order."

Loghain looked at Lhiannon again. "When you met him before, was he a deceptive sort, or did he seem honorable to you?"

Lhiannon shrugged. "He was understandably concerned for the Arl and Redcliffe. He didn't seem a dishonorable sort."

Lhiannon watched Loghain think for a moment, his jaw set. "As much as this idea may seem repugnant to you, Tomas needs to see Guy executed. It will drive the point home that you will execute him as well if he tries to deceive you."

Garavel quickly nodded. "I agree. In this case, you need to make an example of Guy. Let the conspirators know what will happen if they continue on this course of action."

Lhiannon sighed, a sick grimace crossing her face. One eyebrow shot up in grim amusement. "A united front; I see how you two are." Loghain and Garavel both scoffed. "All right, gentlemen, we'll do this your way. Tomas watches Guy die."

The three of them turned and walked back toward where Tomas was seated. He watched them warily as they approached. "I have an offer for you, Tomas," Lhiannon began as Loghain and Garavel flanked her. "I will give you three days to consider it; it will be withdrawn after then."

"I'm listening, Warden."

"You will tell me everything you know about your contacts in Redcliffe. _E__verything_. We will investigate what you tell us to determine its validity. If you give us _good_ information that helps us, I will have your life spared."

Tomas' face lit up with surprise. "Thank you, Warden. I appre…"

Lhiannon held up a hand, her voice firm. "I'm not finished. If your information helps us solve the mystery behind those conspiring against the arling, I will spare your life, but you will be exiled from Ferelden. You will take your family and leave." Lhiannon narrowed her eyes at him, leaning forward and pointing at him. She watched his face blanch. "You _will not_ return to Ferelden. _Ever._ If you do, the order will be to have you executed on sight."

Lhiannon stepped back to be flanked once again by Loghain and Garavel. "That is the offer, Tomas. You have three days to decide if you will accept it. If you don't accept it, you will be executed. Is that in any way unclear?"

Tomas lowered his head. "It is clear, Warden."

As Lhiannon turned to leave the dungeon, Garavel ordered the guards to return Tomas to his cell. As the door to the cellblock opened, they could still hear Lord Guy raving away in his cell.

* * *

"Lord Guy, you stand accused of the attempted murder of the Arlessa of Amaranthine and Warden Commander," Varel intoned as Lhiannon stood next to him in the main hall of Vigil's Keep. Her Wardens were standing at attention along one wall, all dressed in their Warden armor or robes. Garavel and two soldiers flanked a heavily chained Lord Guy. Several members of his family stood close by, expressions ranging from anxiety to grief.

"The reports of a number of eyewitnesses, including those of Grey Wardens Anders, Loghain, and Nathaniel, all place you at the Stark farmstead along with a number of other conspirators," Varel continued. "Do you have anything to say before the Arlessa and Warden Commander pronounces her sentence?"

Lord Guy spat in Lhiannon's direction, his face twisted in hate. "This is a joke. You murdered Arl Howe. He was good to us and you murdered him like an animal. You filthy mage, you will meet your end yet. I promise you."

"Enough," Lhiannon barked, not taking her eyes from Guy's. "As Arlessa of Amaranthine, I declare your title forfeit; your successor will be determined at the next session of court. You are also guilty of attempted murder. The sentence is death by hanging. Maker have mercy on your soul."

Garavel and the guards led Guy away. They would take him to a far corner of the Vigil's compound, where the gallows had been built. Lhiannon had observed the soldiers building it earlier that day, a pit forming in her stomach as she watched. Lhiannon turned toward the assembled Grey Wardens. "Go out to the gallows and wait for us there. Varel, please have the guards bring Tomas outside as well. He needs to see what awaits him if he does not cooperate with us."

Varel nodded as the Grey Wardens began to file out of the hall. Loghain remained behind, coming to her side as soon as they were alone. Lhiannon lowered her head, pulling off one of her gauntlets and rubbing her aching temple. She grimaced as she touched the tender flesh.

"You did well," Loghain told her, resting his armored hand on the small of her armored back.

Lhiannon nodded slowly, sighing heavily as she did so. "Your support means a great deal."

"And you shall always have it." He turned and motioned toward the door. "Come. We need to join the others."

* * *

Lhiannon sat in the dining hall later that evening, an empty tankard of ale in front of her and a second grasped in her hands. She witnessed the execution of Guy a few hours before, as was her duty as Arlessa of Amaranthine. Watching his hooded body twist from the gallows made her stomach lurch and she was very nearly sick to her stomach. After they had cut him down and turned the body over to his family, she returned to her quarters for a long bath. It did little to soothe her spirits. When she finished, she dressed in a plain tunic and trousers before she walked to the dining hall, hoping some company would help lift her melancholy mood.

Oghren and Sigrun were at one table, a small keg of dwarven ale in front of them. Sigrun had foolishly agreed to join Oghren in a dwarven drinking game and was clearly regretting it. Her eyes were bloodshot and speech greatly slurred; Oghren was laughing at her, seemingly unaffected by the vile brew. "Don't play with fire, girlie. You'll get burned," he grinned at her, taking another long drink of the brew as Sigrun grimaced.

Anders and Nathaniel were playing with a deck of cards, betting small change on their hands. When one had a promising hand, he would relentlessly tease the other until, exasperated, a hand of cards was thrown on the table by the loser while the winner scooped up their winnings. The pile of coins seemed to be going back and forth between them rather than growing in front of one or the other.

Draining the last of her ale, Lhiannon returned the cup to the table and rose, hoping a walk instead would help lift her flagging spirits as being in the dining hall was having little effect. She returned to her quarters and grabbed her cloak before heading outside the Vigil. The evening was clear and chilly; she watched as white plumes came from her nose and mouth as she breathed. The moon was just a sliver in the black sky, the stars shining brightly around it. She had just descended to the bottom of the steps at the front of the Vigil when she heard the door closing softly behind her. She turned to find Loghain descending the steps, his own cloak pulled tightly around him.

"I saw you leaving," he said, coming to Lhiannon's side. "Would you like company?"

Lhiannon turned to look at him and saw the concern in his eyes. She gave him a small nod. "I would like that."

Loghain pulled his hand from under his cloak and found hers, his fingers tangling within her own. Her hand was cold but began to warm as he held it. They began to slowly walk through the compound.

"Condemning a prisoner to death is no easy task," Loghain finally said, breaking the silence between them.

"No, it certainly isn't."

They continued to walk through the grounds of Vigil's Keep, a comfortable silence between them. Loghain was absentmindedly stroking the smooth skin of Lhiannon's hand with his thumb, trying to offer what comfort he could. These small gestures were becoming easier for him as their relationship deepened. It was the small gestures that made him realize just what he had missed, and denied himself, for so long. He was grateful that the Maker brought her into his life, even if the way she came into it was anything but normal or typical.

They came upon the statue of Andraste and the stone bench they sat on the very first day they arrived at Vigil's Keep. Lhiannon looked at it and sighed wistfully. "Loghain, are we ever going to come to the bottom of this conspiracy?"

"We will," he assured her confidently, opening his cloak and pulling her inside before wrapping it around them again. Lhiannon looked up at him, a small twinge of sadness crossing her face. "You'll have to return to Gwaren soon, yes?"

Loghain nodded slowly. "I will, at some point. I'll return as soon as I can however." He brought a hand up to her face and cradled it. "But we need not worry about that now."

She closed her eyes and rested her head in his hand, the warmth of it driving the chill from her skin. He held her that way for several moments, stroking the soft skin of her face with his thumb before she opened her eyes again. Her melancholy look was replaced by the mischievous twinkle that Loghain had become familiar with in these last months.

"Stay with me tonight." Her statement was both question and demand.

Loghain grinned at her, a wolfish grin that always made Lhiannon grin in return. "If that is what my Commander requires of me." As expected, Lhiannon returned his wolfish grin. "I do so command it."

Taking her once more by the hand, Loghain led her back to the Vigil; up the stairs, through the halls, and finally into her chambers. He had barely bolted the door when she pounced on him like a great cat, kissing, nipping, and sucking his burning flesh.

Loghain ran a finger over Lhiannon's skin afterward, a sheen of sweat covering her body. She looked much like herself after they had made love, lying contented in her bed while she watched him thoughtfully. She curled a lock of his hair between her fingers while his finger traced a line down her slick body, his light and gentle caresses causing her to giggle softly. His finger traced the scar on her hip, the one she received standing over him at the Stark farm. It was still healing, slightly raised and still pink.

"Could you not make your scar fade?" he asked her as he continued to trace it, from where it began near the front of her body to where it ended on the side of her hip. She giggled slightly at his touch.

"That scar will be there permanently, I'm afraid. Besides, it's not so bad."

"Oh?"

She moved her fingers to Loghain's face, tracing a path from his temple down to his jaw, then down his neck. "It is a reminder of fighting to protect that which is dear to me."

"I am fortunate, then, to have such a valiant champion at my side," he grinned, bending down to kiss her scar softly from end to end. It sent her into a mad fit of squirming and giggling; Loghain thought he had never heard a sweeter sound.

* * *

_Goosebumps rose on her skin, starting on her arms and exploding across her body as a cool breeze penetrated the thin, ragged clothing and caressed her flesh. Confusion raged through her mind; she could not remember where she was or how she got there. She tried to turn her head, finding her neck surrounded by a metal collar. She tried to raise her arms and found them shackled to her side. Suddenly, a creature loomed above her, its features a perverse likeness of a human face. It held something in its twisted, taloned hand. She saw that it looked like a tube, its edge razor sharp and gleaming in the wan light. The creature pressed a lever at the end it held in its hand and a small claw emerged from the opposite end. _

_She screamed, the sheer terror overwhelming her as she watched the creature position the instrument on the skin of her abdomen before pressing down. The instrument punctured her flesh and the creature pressed it harder, driving the crude device deeper beneath the surface. Pain exploded through her body as the device tore through skin and muscle, violating her very center. She began to flail as she screamed, the force of which causing her throat to crack and bleed._

_"Do not struggle, Commander. I do not wish to hurt you any more than necessary."_

_"What are you doing to me?" she howled in agony, the pain becoming her entire world. "Why are you doing this?"_

_"Grey Wardens who are mages appear to have less difficulty when procreating; I wish to study why this is. The corruption advances too quickly in my subjects for adequate study. Perhaps it can help me alter future broodmothers so that my brethren are free of their compulsion from birth."_

_She wailed in pain, fury, and protest. "NO! I will NOT be an experiment!" She began to call upon her power, hoping she could do something to stop this creature though her hands were bound. The creature waved a hand, paralyzing her screams as well as her body; the pain, however, still remained._

_"That was most unfortunate, Commander. I do apologize."_

_She was the only one that could hear her silent screams as the creature removed the instrument, a small piece of her flesh caught in the claw at the end._

Lhiannon sat bolt upright in bed, the covers falling off her naked body and her chest heaving as if she had run for miles. Tears were streaming down her face and she brought her hands up, sobbing into them uncontrollably. The comforting feel of Loghain's arms was suddenly around her, pulling her close. He was speaking to her, but in her terror, she only heard the tone. He was speaking softly, trying to soothe her terror with his calming presence and words. After several minutes, her sobs slowed, replaced by the occasional hitching breath.

"Lhiannon, shh. I'm here," Loghain said, holding her firmly and smoothing her mussed hair.

Lhiannon sniffled, wiping the tears off her face with a hand. "Oh, Maker," she sobbed.

"What was it? A dream?" Loghain asked.

"No, it was worse than that," Lhiannon began, fighting to keep the sobs from taking over once again. "I'm sure it was a memory." She knew then that the dream she had earlier in the Knotwood Hills, the one of being carried and a figure looming over her, was also a memory and not a dream.

"A memory?" he asked, confusion in his voice, "Of what?"

Loghain felt a shudder go through her body and watched at she looked down at her abdomen at the small scar there. "The Architect..." she began. She stopped as the tears began anew and she brought her hand up to her face to catch her sobs. Loghain continued to hold her, placing a small kiss on the top of her head. "What did it do?" Loghain asked, dread twisting in his gut. He was quite certain that he did not want to hear what she had to say.

"It took something from me," she whispered, her voice haunted. "It wants to know why Grey Warden mages can procreate easier than other Grey Wardens. This wasn't the first memory either. I think my dream in the Knotwood Hills was also a memory."

Loghain froze, his spine turning to ice. Had she been...? "Lhiannon, were you with child?" he whispered, fearing the answer. The horror of what the creature could have done sent chills through his body.

Lhiannon shook her head rapidly. "No. No, I wasn't. I started my courses right after we left the mine." She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "I would go mad had I been and the Architect...done something to it."

"The Architect will answer for what it has done, I promise you," Loghain growled, incensed that the creature could perform such an appalling act. He gently turned her head so that she was looking at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleary from her crying and her body still quivered slightly. He lay back down, pulling her with him to lie at his side. He could feel her brooding as they lay down.

"Have you had any memories come back to you, Loghain?"

Loghain shook his head; he had had no dreams of the Architect or the abandoned mine. He had darkspawn dreams, but they had abated a great deal with the death of the archdemon. "No. Perhaps your link to the Fade has helped you remember," he said, running his hand lightly down her cheek. They lay wrapped in each other's arms for several moments; Lhiannon still quietly brooding while Loghain offered what comfort he could.

"Would you have been unhappy if I were with child?" Lhiannon whispered after several moments. "I know Grey Wardens traditionally give up their children..." Her voice trailed off as if she had been distracted or hesitant to speak further.

It was a subject Loghain had pondered of late, since Anora was with child. Lhiannon was certainly within her childbearing years, being close to Anora's own age. He knew that Grey Warden mages could indeed conceive and discovered in his ruminations that he was not completely comfortable with the prospect, given his advancing age. Not entirely opposed to it, but not exactly comfortable either.

He knew one such case of a Grey Warden mage having conceived already. Granted, the father was no Grey Warden, but the speed at which Warden Fiona conceived was proof that it could happen. Loghain had been livid when Maric told him of Alistair's existence. It was one thing for a King to have bastard children, he had fumed at Maric; it was quite another when the mother was an elf. Elves were barely tolerated as it was—elves that were mages even less so—and it would have been scandalous if word got out regarding Maric's fling with an elven mage. Maric had demanded Loghain's word that he would not divulge the parentage of the child; Loghain, of course, gave it. He had also promised Maric that if Alistair ever asked about his mother when he was old enough to understand the ramifications, he would not lie to the boy. As of yet, the King had not asked and Loghain had not revealed the knowledge.

What she said about Grey Wardens giving up their children was true; however, Lhiannon was no traditional Grey Warden. She had a noble title and lands, something few Wardens had; something mages _never_ had. Knowing her, she would likely find a way to keep a child should she bear one. However, since their chances of conceiving a child were doubly remote, the situation would likely never present itself. She most likely knew this, but Loghain saw no sense in bringing it up in her current state of mind. Still, all things considered, a child would be a gift and if the Maker willed it, he would put his reservations aside and accept it willingly and happily. Loghain knew full well that the Maker had a sense of humor; whether the Maker was laughing _at_ him or _with_ him was yet to be determined.

Loghain smiled at Lhiannon, pressing his lips to her forehead as he held her close. "I would welcome any child the Maker saw fit to grant us," he said softly. She sniffled once, then wrapped her arms more tightly around Loghain, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears from flowing once again. He stayed awake until her breathing fell into the deep, regular rhythm of sleep. He then relaxed, holding her close as he too drifted off.

* * *

Word had been sent to Lhiannon the next morning that Tomas had made his decision on her offer of exile for information. She had planned on going to Amaranthine that day to meet with Mervis and the Merchants Guild, but quickly changed her plans. Trade was improving, but she wanted an update directly from the guild itself. Mervis would have to wait another day or so, it seemed.

Lhiannon found Varel in his office and asked him to accompany her and Loghain to the dungeons to hear Tomas' decision. When they arrived, Garavel was waiting for them outside Tomas' cell. Tomas stood from the cot as Lhiannon, Loghain, and Varel entered, all three watching him closely. Lhiannon approached the bars, wearing what she hoped was a stern expression on her face.

"Tomas, I understand you have come to a decision," Lhiannon stated, clasping her hands behind her back and waiting for him to speak.

"I have Warden. I accept your offer."

Lhiannon nodded. "I had hoped you would." She turned to Garavel and motioned him toward the cell. "Bring Tomas out into the interrogation room so we can begin."

What Tomas told them turned Lhiannon's stomach into knots. Tomas explained that the contact would meet him outside the windmill just above town, letting him into the secret passage between the windmill and the castle basement for their meeting. Loghain saw that Lhiannon's face grew dark and troubled when Tomas mentioned that. Tomas did not know the identity the person that met with him, as the light was always poor and the contact wore a hood and shroud that covered their face. All he could say was that the person was thin with dark eyes. The contact never spoke, but simply handed Tomas the letters.

The contact occasionally had an accomplice with them, a large hulking figure that was clearly male; after further questioning on that point, it was determined that the man was Temmerly. The man had told Tomas that the new Arlessa of Amaranthine was using blood magic to control the Arling. She was ruling through dark magic, he said, and magic is to serve, never rule. They told him that allowing her to live was an affront to the Maker and that he would be punished if he did not join them. Perhaps the Maker would harm Tomas' unborn child in His righteous anger, they told him. Tomas found it difficult to believe that the Hero of Ferelden was a blood mage, ruling her lands through dark magic; however, the fear of the Maker's wrath drove Tomas to join the conspirators. It was now that he realized the conspirators lied to him all along; the Arlessa was no power mad blood mage.

After a few more questions, it was clear that Tomas had told them all that he knew. Lhiannon thanked him for his cooperation before turning to leave, Loghain and Varel right on her heels. As they exited the dungeon and stood in the Vigil's courtyard, Loghain put a hand on Lhiannon's arm, asking her to stop for a moment. Varel also stopped, turning to look at Loghain and Lhiannon with a concerned look on his face.

"Lhiannon, I saw your face when Tomas mentioned the windmill. What do you know about it?" Loghain asked. Lhiannon's face grew dark once more as she looked between Loghain and Varel.

"That windmill only opens with a signet ring," she began. "A ring with the seal of Redcliffe on it. A ring that only members of the Arl's family have."

"Andraste's blood," Varel swore.

* * *

_A/N: A few notes for this chapter. Tomas is the character the Warden meets just outside town the first time you go to Redcliffe to see about curing Arl Eamon. He's also the one who whines at you if you try to leave Redcliffe before battling the demon. He will agree to sign up with Arl Eamon's army if you get him drunk enough. To quote Alistair, "someone's been drinking." ;) I figured since he fought alongside the Wardens to defend Redcliffe (and survived...sometimes he doesn't if you don't dispatch the darkspawn fast enough), Eamon would reward him with knighthood.  
_

_It's heavily hinted in "The Calling" that Fiona is Alistair's mother. I'm picking up that ball and running with it._

_As for the Architect, my theory is that he will stop at nothing to free the darkspawn from the call of the Old Gods. HIS compulsion is to study the Grey Wardens and find any way possible to free his brethren. In my mind, that means he's going to do any experiment that comes to mind, including studying the procreation process. Since Grey Warden mages don't come along too often, he saw his opportunity and took it.  
_

_Thanks to my reviewers, Shakespira, Arsinoe, and Zute; thanks also to all you readers, lurkers, and bookmarkers.  
_

_Extra special thanks to Shakespira. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation yesterday. Your words of support and encouragement meant a great deal to me and I **thank you** so very, very much. You made my day!  
_


	34. The Order of Execution

_A/N: Most of you who have followed along thus far know I like to expand on storylines, tweak canon a little, or go on tangents now and then. Well, we're on a tangent for the next few chapters. Don't worry; we'll be back to the main storyline soon enough._

* * *

Loghain looked up from his conversation with Circle of Magi Ambassador Cera—the envoy sent to Amaranthine to supply magical supplies and enchantments—and watched as Varel handed Lhiannon a scroll that had arrived by courier only hours ago. She had been smiling warmly at the seneschal as she arrived from her day trip to Amaranthine to meet with Mervis and the Merchants Guild. She had postponed her trip for a couple of days after the events at the Stark farm, but was anxious to get Mervis' take on how the improved trade routes were faring. Loghain noticed that with a single look at the wax seal, the smile fell from Lhiannon's face with the speed of a bolt of lightning. Lhiannon turned and hurried from the main hall; presumably to her office, Loghain surmised. He could guess what sort of correspondence could cause Lhiannon such distress; there was one particular communication that she was both dreading and expecting. Judging by the look on her face, it had arrived. Loghain quickly finished his conversation with Cera, handing her a number of sovereigns before he exited the hall, his feet carrying him toward Lhiannon's office.

When he arrived in the doorway shortly thereafter, Lhiannon's back was to him, staring out the window and onto the courtyard below. She was still dressed in her riding leathers, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold. He recognized that posture; it was the one she used when she was feeling distressed. Loghain saw the unrolled scroll sitting on her desk, likely dropped there by a shaking hand.

"I hear you, Loghain," she said quietly, her gaze still at what lay beyond the window. She made no move to turn around.

"I can leave, if you wish to be alone," Loghain offered.

"No," she said after a slight pause. "You can stay. Though I warn you I'm not pleasant company right now."

Loghain entered Lhiannon's office, perching on the corner of her desk and looking at her back. She held herself stiffly, her muscles tense and wrapped so tight that they were likely to snap at any moment. "The letter is there, if you wish to read it," Lhiannon offered, her eyes still staring out the window at nothing in particular. Loghain picked up the letter, noting the seal of the Arl of Redcliffe. He began to read the letter, not surprised at the contents.

Jowan's execution had been scheduled for ten days from today.

Loghain slid off the desk and stood behind Lhiannon, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back into his chest, sighing sadly as she did so.

"I'm sorry, Lhiannon."

"I have to go there. I promised Jowan," Lhiannon sighed, tangling her fingers into Loghain's. She felt his sigh of displeasure and how his body slightly tensed behind her. "I'll have to leave soon; not what I was expecting. I was half hoping we could have a few days of leisure before the next crisis rears its head."

Loghain scoffed behind her. Lhiannon turned in his grasp, preparing for his angry reaction at her next words. "Anders says you need to rest for a few more days. I would not have you endure the stress of travel."

He quickly dropped his arms, moving away and beginning to pace the floor angrily. "I can decide on my own if I am able to travel," Loghain growled at her. "I would not have you travel there alone, not after what Tomas said. The root of the conspiracy against you lies there. They likely know you will come for Jowan's execution." He turned to face her, pointing an accusatory finger. "You give them too tempting a target."

"Anders would not give you leave to travel to Amaranthine with me today; I hardly think he will agree to you traveling to Redcliffe." Lhiannon threw her hands up in the air, exasperated at yet another challenge to her authority. "I'll be lucky to get there beforehand as it is; Arl Eamon did not give me much notice. I may have to move at a forced pace. If Anders believes the travel is too stressing for you, then I believe him," Lhiannon said, her voice becoming hard as she felt the tension rising between them.

Loghain's eyes were cold as he glared at her in his anger. "I can keep my own counsel on my health, _Commander_," Loghain growled, his tone as icy as the look in his eyes. "I do not need Anders telling me what I can or cannot do."

Lhiannon glared at Loghain in both exasperation and weariness. "I will order you, if I must. I had hoped that I would not have to, but it seems you will leave me little choice."

Turning his back, Loghain stalked away from Lhiannon to glare at the map of Amaranthine that was on the wall. The small smudge indicating where the Stark farm lay was still clearly visible. He glowered at it, silently cursing the farm and the conspirators they found there. The urge to go to the prison and calmly choke the life out of Tomas was nearly overwhelming.

Lhiannon watched Loghain's face as he stared at the map, the tension in the air wrapping tightly around them. She had nearly convinced herself that she would have to order him after all, but with an exasperated sigh, he nodded.

_I hope I don't regret this_, he thought. "Very well. I'll remain here. But Nathaniel and Garavel go with you. I will brook no argument on that."

Lhiannon chuckled; if that was the extent of the argument Loghain was giving her after all his blustery anger, he must have known deep down that what Anders told him was the right course of action. She imagined it rankled him, which made her giggle even harder.

"Fine. Laugh at my expense," he groused at her, rolling his eyes. "I will seek out Nathaniel and Garavel while you begin your preparations."

* * *

As Lhiannon began to pack supplies for the trip to Redcliffe, Loghain sought out Nathaniel and Garavel, giving them the orders to accompany Lhiannon on her journey. Loghain found his concern growing as he walked the halls of the Vigil. He would not be there to support her in her grief; he also would not be there to protect her from those seeking to do her harm. His place was by her side, both as her Second and as the man that loved her; that he was unable to be at her side when she needed him rankled him a great deal.

_Just what sorts of games are being played in Redcliffe_, he thought, feeling his brow furrowing as he mulled the prospect. Was Eamon aware of the dangers Lhiannon faced? Since he had been in Denerim when Lhiannon was poisoned, he likely knew there were unsavory elements after her. Did he know there were conspirators in Redcliffe? Was he one of them? The train of thought made Loghain bristle. He should just find Anders and demand he be given clearance to accompany Lhiannon to Redcliffe, regardless of the lingering effects of the mortality spell. He knew that his presence there, while undoubtedly disruptive, would allow him to rest easier and perhaps work to put the conspirators off guard. Certainly, there were few men in Ferelden who were less welcome in Redcliffe than Grey Warden and Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir. However, he knew that no matter how much he tried to coerce the mage into acquiescing, Anders would not do so. Even if Loghain managed such a feat, Lhiannon would simply order him to stay.

He found his feet carrying him toward the armory and training room. A few moments of sword work would help calm his agitated nerves before he returned to Lhiannon's office. As much as he was loath to see her leave, he did not want to send her off after having a spat with her; calming his nerves would go a long way to see that task completed. As he approached the door, he heard a rhythmic thumping sound, followed by a light "yes!" Loghain quietly peered into the room and saw Sigrun there. She had been throwing small knives at a target. Loghain found himself intrigued by this; the target looked like it had taken a lot of abuse from her throwing. He entered the room, greeting Sigrun with a nod.

"I didn't know you threw knives," Loghain commented, picking up one of the small blades from the table next to her. It was light in his hand and he could see that it was razor sharp.

"It came in handy in the Deep Roads," Sigrun said. "I would hide in the shadows and pick the darkspawn off. We'd take bets on which part of a darkspawn I would hit first." She shrugged lightly. "Sometimes we got bored with the usual ways of killing darkspawn. It's a hobby."

Loghain rubbed his chin in thought. "Would you mind showing me how you throw those?"

Sigrun shrugged, her brows shooting up in amusement. "Sure," she agreed amiably. She picked up one of the knives and with a motion almost too fast to follow, threw it toward the standing target across the room. The knife was buried in the center ring. She continued to throw her knives at the target, all but one burying themselves into the target.

Loghain nodded his approval. "Sigrun, are you aware that Lhiannon is traveling to Redcliffe?"

Sigrun gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. "They're going to execute her friend, aren't they?"

Loghain curtly nodded. "I will not be going to Redcliffe."

"You're not? Did you and Lhi have a fight?"

Loghain shook his head, fighting the irritation that threatened to boil over. "No, Sigrun. I am still feeling the effects of the draining spell that was cast on me at the abandoned farm. Anders does not want me to travel."

"Oh, well, that's good then. I mean that you and Lhi aren't fighting, not about the spell," Sigrun chattered.

Loghain had to hold back an exasperated sigh and fight to keep his eyes from rolling. "I want you to go with her," Loghain began, biting his tongue to keep his irritation at bay. "You need to stay with her and keep her safe, Sigrun." Loghain lowered himself to eye level with the dwarf, catching her gaze with his own and holding it steady. "I am entrusting her life to you," he growled, his voice low.

Sigrun's grin faded, replaced with a look of fierce determination. She nodded to Loghain. "I understand. I will make sure she stays safe. By the ancestors, I swear it."

Loghain held Sigrun's gaze for a moment longer, then nodded and rose to his feet. "You'd better hurry and pack then. The Commander will want to leave as soon as possible."

After leaving the training room, Loghain sought out Lhiannon to tell her that Sigrun would be accompanying her to Redcliffe. He found her in her office, packing up the papers confiscated from Tomas and tucking them into her pack. A squire was there, packing up her heavy armor for the trip. She was still in her riding leathers, not bothering to remove them as she hurriedly prepared for the trip. Loghain knocked on the doorjamb to get Lhiannon's attention. She looked up and saw Loghain there, beckoning him in with a wave of her hand as she sent the squire off with her armor.

"I'll be ready to leave within the hour, Loghain. We'll be able to get a few hours down the road before darkness falls. You are in charge until I return, of course. I have already made Varel aware of the situation. I don't plan on being gone too terribly long, hopefully no more than three weeks. I'm hoping to be back in closer to two, if I can."

"All will be as you left it when you return," Loghain said, helping her secure the last of the buckles on her pack.

Lhiannon turned to him, brushing his braid with her fingers. "I know it will be. There is no one more capable at Vigil's Keep than you."

Loghain turned and pulled her into his arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head as she settled it against his chest. Lhiannon pulled him to her even tighter, as if she were afraid he would vanish into thin air if she let him go. He lifted her chin with his hand and brought his lips to hers. He kissed her for several moments before he broke away, still holding her close.

"I spoke with Sigrun not long ago. Did you know she throws knives?" Loghain felt the shake of Lhiannon's head against his chest. "No, I didn't," she said, surprise in her voice. She pulled her head up and looked into Loghain's eyes. "Was she good at it?"

Loghain nodded. "Very. I also ordered her to accompany you to Redcliffe. She is to stay with you at all times."

Lhiannon looked at him thoughtfully. "I suppose that isn't a bad idea, if I have to leave you behind."

"Indeed."

Lhiannon rested her head on Loghain's chest again, hearing the steady beat of his heart and feeling the warmth of his body penetrate her riding leathers and warm her skin. She fought the melancholy feeling rising up in her. She turned her head up to Loghain again and found him looking down on her with both love and concern in his eyes.

"I love you, Lhiannon," he said softly, trailing a line of kisses down her face, beginning at the small scar at her eye. "Hurry home."_ I have something for you._

"And I love you, Loghain," she replied, turning her head to meet his mouth with her own, her lips dancing across his as she felt a pang cross her heart. _Maker, keep us both safe._

* * *

Lhiannon set a punishing pace for Redcliffe, earning several warnings from Garavel about pushing the horses too hard. She needed to make haste to Redcliffe however; it had dawned on her that the Arl gave her barely enough notice to tie up affairs at Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine and put things in order before leaving. Little did Eamon know that she had excellent people with her; they could easily handle matters there with little supervision from her.

They set up camp just before sunset. Garavel insisted on bringing several soldiers with them. He had hinted to Lhiannon that his orders for the guards came from both Loghain and Varel. She found herself not surprised by that revelation and had to fight back a grin. It would be just like Loghain to try and protect her from afar. Varel too, for that matter.

Garavel and the Grey Wardens sat at the fires after setting up their tents and having the soldiers establish a perimeter around the camp. Sigrun insisted on sharing Lhiannon's tent; when Lhiannon asked her why, Sigrun's normally cheery face became deadly serious. "I promised Loghain that I would protect you. That means I stick with you like Oghren sticks to his ale barrel."

"But sharing a tent? And what about when we get to Redcliffe?"

Sigrun simply shrugged. "I promised."

Lhiannon sighed, not willing to fight with Sigrun over her orders from Loghain. She could, of course, countermand Loghain's orders, but it was not worth the battle. Loghain would most likely have ordered Sigrun to tell him if Lhiannon had done such a thing. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't want you to break your promise to Loghain. He is prickly about such things as duty."

Turning to Nathaniel, Lhiannon watched as he restrung his bow; a small pang of homesickness ran through her as it reminder her of Loghain. "Nate, when we get to Redcliffe, can you use your skills to search for paper like these notes are written on?" Lhiannon handed the notes to Nathaniel, who studied the paper carefully. He noted both the flaw in the workmanship and the attempted removal of the embossing. After several moments studying the notes, he handed them back to Lhiannon with a grin on his face. "Why do you think Loghain ordered me to go with you?"

Lhiannon scoffed, smiling at him. "Silly me; Loghain appears to have thought of everything. When we get there, I'll have you investigate the windmill in the hills just outside town. I still have the signet ring that Teagan gave me when we saved Redcliffe from the desire demon and its minions." She paused for a moment, looking into the fire with a troubled expression. "I hope he hasn't replaced the ring. I would hate to consider him a suspect."

"Unfortunately, Commander, anyone connected to Redcliffe is a suspect at this point," Garavel said, poking a stick into the fire to stir the coals. "Even friends could be suspects. I've met Bann Teagan before; he seems to be an honorable man. I also hope he's not involved."

"We are going to have to keep a fast pace toward Redcliffe, Captain," Lhiannon said quietly, raising her eyes to meet Garavel's. "Eamon gave us barely enough time to travel there." Her brows went up and a wolfish grin spread across her face. "I'd like to get there early and surprise the Arl, if we can."

* * *

Loghain was sitting in is office, leafing through correspondence and reports that had arrived since Lhiannon departed for Redcliffe. He scowled down at the parchment; he hated paperwork. He was half tempted to leave the paperwork for her. It would serve her right for leaving him behind. As tempting as it was, he knew paperwork was part of his duty to her as her Second, so he would complete the hateful task. He had worked for some time, the pile of completed paperwork steadily growing when he heard a knock on the doorjamb. Loghain looked up to see Varel standing there, two pieces of parchment in his hand.

"Warden Loghain," Varel intoned in his deep voice. "These messages just arrived via courier from Gwaren."

Loghain suddenly felt an uneasy prickle travel down his spine. Varel approached his desk and handed the papers to Loghain, who indicated one of the chairs to Varel, bidding him to sit. Loghain looked at the wax seals and saw the familiar wyvern of Gwaren on them. He broke the seal on both letters, studying both for several moments. He then set them side by side, looking back and forth between the two. Varel saw Loghain's face frown and scowl.

"What is it?" Varel asked, the concern evident in his voice.

"These letters are from my lieutenant, Ser Cauthrien. She is in charge of Gwaren's armies while I am away. The letter is coded."

Varel frowned. "Are you at liberty to discuss them?"

Loghain sighed, fingering both documents as he considered Varel's question. "Cauthrien knows to report any anomalous activities within the teyrnir to me immediately. She has heard rumors circulating in Gwaren of late. There are a few minor lords and banns flaunting new found wealth."

Varel frowned, not understanding Loghain's concern. "How is that concerning?"

"The semiannual taxes were just collected in Gwaren. I saw the records of several of these people just recently. They didn't declare the amounts of money that Cauthrien is saying they now have."

"Tax evasion is not uncommon, Warden."

"Agreed," Loghain said, steepling his hands on his desk. "But these nobles have never had that sort of wealth before. Besides, they know that I do not tolerate such deception. What also bothers Ser Cauthrien is that these are men that I have had issues with before. I recently ruled against one at my court not long ago."

"What do you think is happening?"

A deep scowl crossed Loghain's features, quickly matched by frown from Varel. "I'm not sure. I know that there are a number of nobles that were not happy the Queen appointed me Teyrn again. It could be dissention over that. Or it could be they're unhappy with the choices I made during the Blight."

"Do you think you will have to travel there?" Varel asked.

Loghain shook his head. "I'm unsure. Cauthrien says in her letter that she will follow up in several days. She is shrewd and I trust her judgment more than most anyone else. I'll wait for her update before I decide."

* * *

The Grey Wardens and the soldiers from Vigil's Keep arrived in Redcliffe in nearly record time, two days before Jowan's execution. When they arrived, the chamberlain announced Lhiannon and the Grey Wardens to Arl Eamon, who it appeared had hastily prepared himself to meet them in his main hall.

"Warden Commander, it is good to see you in Redcliffe again," Arl Eamon said, rising off his chair to greet her. He shook her hand firmly.

"Thank you for your welcome, ser. Allow me to introduce my companions. Wardens Nathaniel and Sigrun," she indicated to her left. "And Captain Garavel of the Vigil's Keep militia," she indicated to the right. "We also have a number of the Vigil's soldiers that have accompanied us, if you would be so kind as to offer them hospitality as well."

Eamon nodded. "Of course. I shall have them housed in the barracks with my own knights." Eamon turned and sat on his chair once more, studying Lhiannon carefully. "You arrived in Redcliffe much quicker than I anticipated. It normally takes another day and a half to travel here from Amaranthine. I'm was worried that your affairs in the city and Vigil's Keep would have delayed you."

Lhiannon clasped her hands behind her back, doing her best to keep a relaxed look on her face. She suspected that Eamon was hoping they would be delayed in their departure. "I have extremely capable people in Amaranthine. I know that I can leave them in charge for some time with minimal supervision. And with little notice."

Eamon slowly nodded, his lips pursed together. "I'm glad you have such capable people then." He paused for a moment, shifting in his chair before continuing. "Jowan's execution is in two days, Commander. "

"I understand."

"If I may ask, do you have other business in Redcliffe?"

Lhiannon worked to calm the irritation that was rising within her. Why would he be so interested in her business in Redcliffe? "I would like to spend some time with Jowan before his execution. That is why I came early."

"And the other Grey Wardens and your soldiers? Surely you have need of them in Vigil's Keep, yes?"

The Arl's questions had Lhiannon fighting to keep her posture relaxed and her face serene despite the growing irritation inside her. "Ser, you know that there are still remnants of the horde wandering Ferelden. There is safety traveling in numbers."

Eamon continued to study her intently. Lhiannon felt as if she was being interrogated or sized up and the thought made her bristle. "I understand you had a small revolt on your hands in Amaranthine." Eamon said. Garavel stiffened next to Lhiannon and she held a hand out to calm him. Garavel looked like he wanted to breathe fire at Eamon, but held his place. Lhiannon was curious as to how Eamon heard that information, since everyone involved in the revolt inside the Vigil was dead.

"There were a small number of nobles that tried to exact revenge for the death of Rendon Howe. It was a foolish decision on their part." She held the Arl's gaze for a moment before continuing. "If I may ask, how did you hear of it?"

Eamon chuckled. "Gossip has a way of traveling quickly through the nobility, my dear." He stood, motioning to his chamberlain. "Commander, I would be honored if you and your companions would join the Arlessa and me for dinner this evening. It won't be ready for a couple of hours yet and I'm sure you would like to rest and freshen up. I will have my chamberlain show you to your rooms.

Lhiannon held up a hand. "Ser, if I may, I'd like to see Jowan."

Eamon shook his head. "I'm sorry, Commander, not tonight. I will allow you to see him before his sentence is carried out. For now, I have some matters to attend to. I shall see you at dinner." With that, the Arl rose from his chair and exited the hall, summarily dismissing Lhiannon and the others.

* * *

A knock on the door drew Lhiannon's attention from where she stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the front of the one long dress she brought with her. They had been given a room in the guest wing of the castle. It was not a room Lhiannon had stayed in before; it had been Morrigan's when they were here during the Blight. The room was home to a large, ornate armoire that Lhiannon had admired the last time she was here. The room made her uneasy; this was where Morrigan and Loghain had… She paused in her thinking. Lhiannon and Loghain had barely discussed what had happened here just before the fall of the archdemon. Lhiannon sensed that they would have to revisit that night again, and soon. When word reached Weisshaupt that the slayer of the archdemon was indeed alive, there were bound to be questions. Lhiannon shuddered, bringing herself back to the present; that conversation could not be had with anyone other than Loghain and it would be best to focus on the events at hand.

Sigrun, also wearing a fine dress, turned to answer the knock at the door. Nathaniel was on the other side; he had exchanged his Warden armor for light leathers. Lhiannon beckoned him inside and closed the door behind him.

"I'm ready to do some searching, Commander," he said, pulling a lock pick from his leathers to show her before quickly stashing it away again. Lhiannon took one of the coded letters and gave it to Nathaniel.

"Use this as a basis of comparison. I know you will, but I have to say it anyway: be both discrete and careful. If you find anything, let me know immediately."

"I will," Nathaniel promised, stealthing himself right before her eyes. She had never seen him do that before and she felt a shudder run down her spine. She turned to Sigrun. "I'm glad he's on our side."

After Nathaniel left, Lhiannon and Sigrun decided to take a walk in the gardens. Sigrun had not seen many of the plants and flowers that grew on the surface. She was enraptured by all the different varieties. Many of the more fragile flowers had died off, however, as the weather was beginning to turn colder; the heartier varieties still bloomed and Sigrun was amazed at their diversity. Movement out of the corner of her eye drew Lhiannon's attention to her left, and she watched as the familiar figure of Bann Teagan approached, a warm smile on his face.

"My lady," he said, bowing his head briefly, "it is truly well to see you again. I saw you walking outside and I wanted to welcome you. I wish the circumstances of your visit were more pleasant."

"As do I. And would you _please_ call me Lhiannon? We're not at court or an official function." Lhiannon grinned at Teagan. "I tire of this argument, Teagan."

Teagan laughed, the sound rich to Lhiannon's ears. "As you wish, Lhiannon."

Lhiannon motioned Sigrun forward, introducing her to the Bann before she could get lost among the flowers and shrubs of the garden. Lhiannon looked to Teagan's hand, hoping she would not see a replacement signet ring. His finger was bare, and that brought a small amount of relief.

"Have you had any lingering effects from your poisoning in Denerim?" he asked, looking at her with concern.

"No, I've been well in that regard. However, that has not stopped them from trying again." She paused, looking at the concern on Teagan's face. "Bann Esmerelle tried to assassinate me. There was also a meeting of conspirators that we broke up."

"Makers breath," Teagan swore, "they just don't give up."

Lhiannon looked at Teagen closely. She knew asking the next question could determine where Teagan's loyalties lie. She thought of Teagan as a friend and it would be devastating to learn of any duplicity on his part. "Teagan, I'm sorry, but I still have your signet ring. With the Blight and all else going on, I never returned it to you; I feel horrible about it. You haven't replaced it have you?"

Teagan's eyes went wide with surprise. "That's right! I completely forgot that I gave it to you. I looked for it everywhere. I thought I might have lost it during the battle to free Redcliffe from the demon. My memories of that time are a little...muddled. It was embarrassing to tell Eamon I lost it."

"So you haven't replaced it?"

"No. And it's been embarrassing to have to ask Eamon or Isolde to open doors for me that required the ring. Thankfully, I don't need to do it very often."

Lhiannon chuckled, trying to keep her talk light so it did not seem like she was interrogating him. "Maker's breath, Teagan. Just how many doors need to be opened with the signet ring?"

"There are only a few. The treasury. The records room."

"The windmill," Lhiannon added.

"No," Teagan said. "Isolde had the lock to the windmill changed. When I told Eamon that I lost my ring, she said they should change the lock and Eamon agreed. With my ring lost, they didn't want anyone unknown to sneak in."

"So Eamon or Isolde have to let you in to the windmill? You don't have a ring or a key for it?"

"I haven't been in there since before the battle with the demon that possessed Connor." Teagan shuddered slightly. "The windmill makes me uneasy, so I never asked for a replacement."

Lhiannon felt a great sense of relief; it seemed extremely likely that Teagan was not involved in the conspiracy here in Redcliffe. Hopefully he would be willing to help her. "Teagan, I need your help."

A look of concern so great crossed Teagan's face that Lhiannon knew he could not have faked it. "What is it, Lhiannon? You know you need only ask."

"Teagan, the Grey Wardens have discovered that the root of the conspiracy to eliminate me rests here. In Redcliffe."

"Here?" Teagan asked, a look of complete shock crossing his face. "How? What did you find that led you here?"

"Ser Tomas was involved with the most recent attempt on my life. He was captured and questioned. His contact is here. The letters he received with his orders were written on rich parchment; though someone took pains with it, the parchment has the seal of Redcliffe embossed on them."

Teagan shook his head sadly. "I can't believe Tomas would do that. What could have happened to him to make him do such a thing?" Teagan looked back at Lhiannon. "What will become of him?"

"I promised him exile in exchange for information that leads to the head of the conspiracy."

"What can I do to help?" he asked.

"If you can find blank parchment—just a blank piece—bring it to me. We have the letters that came from his contact; we have something specific that we are looking for."

"I can do that. I can search those rooms that you won't be able to without raising suspicion."

Lhiannon nodded. "Thank you, Teagan. If you find anything, bring it to me in my guest quarters."

* * *

Lhiannon sat to Eamon's right at the dinner table that evening, Isolde on her other side and Sigrun across from her. They feasted on pheasant and beef, potatoes, root vegetables, and loaves of fresh bread. Wine and ale were passed around. Isolde greeted Lhiannon briefly before turning to Teagan, who sat on her other side, chatting with him during the meal.

"How is Loghain, Lhiannon?" Arl Eamon asked toward the end of the meal. Lhiannon saw Isolde stiffen out of the corner of her eye, knowing that the Arlessa was listening intently to what she would say to Eamon.

"He does well. He is evaluating potential Grey Wardens and assists me in the day-to-day affairs of the order," Lhiannon commented, pulling her napkin from her lap and dabbing the corners of her mouth with it.

Isolde scoffed beside her. "I am sure he _assists_ you in more ways than one, _Commander_."

Lhiannon ignored Isolde's barb, feeling the Arlessa's eyes on her skin. She refused to take Isolde's bait. "I am looking to add to the ranks of the Grey Wardens, ser. I think there should be a number of them based in the major settlements in Ferelden. I would like to have a number here in Redcliffe, with your blessing."

Eamon finished the draw from his tankard, setting it down gently on the table. "Of course, Commander. I have a number of candidates in mind, if you would like to consider them before you leave for Amaranthine again."

"Of course. I would like to meet them as soon as possible."

"I shall have them presented to you before you leave. One of them, unfortunately, had pressing business in another town and won't be here. I'd be happy to send him to Amaranthine when he returns. You remember Ser Tomas, don't you?"

Lhiannon felt her stomach drop and fought to keep her face neutral. "Yes, I do remember Tomas. You called him 'Ser'; did you knight him?"

"Yes, I did so after the battle of Redcliffe. He fought most bravely, preventing the darkspawn from breaking into the Chantry and killing those inside. I knighted him for his bravery."

Lhiannon fought the anger rising inside of her. Eamon knew then that Tomas was out of town. Whether he knew about the reason why would have to be determined later. "Then when he returns, send him to me at Vigil's Keep. Warden Loghain and I will evaluate him right away."

"Do not speak that name at my table, _Commander_," Isolde suddenly snarled from her right. Lhiannon turned to look at the Arlessa and found Isolde glaring at her, her cheeks a bright shade of pink that was not all Orlesian makeup.

"Isolde," Eamon warned her. "This is not the place."

"No, Eamon. I will have my say to the Commander," Isolde said, quickly standing and looming over Lhiannon. "You spared the life of the _bâtard_ that tried to kill my husband. Then the Queen made him Teyrn again while you watched. You take him to your bed. _Sale pute_. Dirty whore." Isolde then slapped Lhiannon across the face, the sound sharp and echoing through the dining hall. Lhiannon stood up, incensed, and glared at the Arlessa as her chair clattered to the floor behind her. Eamon quickly stood to move to Isolde's side, holding her arm as if he feared his wife would attack Lhiannon again.

"Eamon," Lhiannon growled, continuing to hold Isolde's glare with her own. "Control your wife. If she touches me again, I promise you, I will drag her to Amaranthine by her hair to face justice in _my_ court. Is that in any way unclear?"

"_Chatte_," Isolde snarled before turning and marching from the room. Eamon turned his head to watch her leave before returning his attention to Lhiannon.

"I apologize, Commander. Isolde is very sensitive to the subject of Warden Loghain."

Lhiannon's glare did not soften as she stared at the Arl. "That does not excuse such vulgar actions, ser. I do not appreciate it. I may not be fluent in Orlesian, but I do know cursing and foul names when I hear them." Lhiannon beckoned to her Wardens to stand. "I think I and the Wardens will retire to chambers. I will remind you that I wish to see Jowan as well. Tomorrow morning."

"Of course, Commander," Eamon said, nodding his head toward her. "Again, I apologize for Isolde's actions tonight."

Lhiannon spun on her heel, walking toward her guest quarters with fists balled and the anger roaring in her blood. She heard the footsteps of her Wardens behind her. They followed her to her quarters, sitting on the sofa just inside. She was about to close the door when Teagan rounded the corner, walking briskly toward her with a concerned look on his face.

"Lhiannon, hold. I must speak with you," he said, his voice tinged with agitation. Lhiannon stepped aside to let him in, then turned to Nathaniel. "Go to the barracks and get Garavel." Nathaniel nodded and left, his feet moving him briskly down the hall. She closed the door behind him, turning toward where Sigrun and Teagan were watching her.

"Wow," Sigrun whistled. "She's not your biggest fan, is she? What a bitch."

Lhiannon scoffed angrily. "The feeling is mutual, Sigrun."

"Lhiannon, I'm truly sorry for what happened. I don't understand what came over her," Teagan apologized. Lhiannon shook her head at him. "You have nothing to apologize for Teagan."

"I searched for some of parchment before dinner, like you asked me to," Teagan said, pulling several pieces from inside his tunic. He laid them out on the desk in the guest room; one piece was blank and smooth while the other was crumpled and appeared to have marks on it. The marks were mostly swirls, as if someone had been testing their writing instrument. The only decipherable items on the paper appeared to be the numbers signifying a date. Lhiannon nodded as he placed them on the table.

"Once Garavel and Nathaniel get back, we'll take a look at everything. Nate has some examples as well."

Teagan and Sigrun chatted amiably while they waited for Nathaniel and Garavel to return. Lhiannon paced the room, her anger and shaking hands beginning to calm. Loghain would be furious when he heard what happened here.

A knock on the door a few minutes later signaled the return of Nathaniel with Garavel in tow. Garavel, sensing something was amiss, brought two of his guards with him to post outside Lhiannon's door. She scoffed to herself; Garavel and Loghain appeared to have been separated at birth. Posting guards would be something Loghain would do. She felt a pang in her heart; she would give anything to have him with her now. Of course, Loghain's presence here would likely have sent Isolde into a screaming fit of rage; _which would be entertaining_, Lhiannon thought.

The five of them went to the desk, spreading out the examples of parchment that Teagan and Nathaniel had gathered. They had only looked at them for a few moments when Nathaniel pointed to one of the sheets that Teagan had brought in.

"Look at that sheet, Lhi," he said, pulling one of Tomas' notes from his tunic. When they held the pieces side by side, the blank piece that Teagan had brought had the exact same flaw as Tomas' note, as did the one with the swirls on it. Lhiannon felt her stomach drop when she saw it.

"Maker's breath," Teagan swore. Lhiannon turned to regard him. She watched as Teagan's face grew pale and he put a hand on the desk to steady himself.

"Teagan?" she asked, the concern in her voice growing. "What is it?"

Teagan raised his eyes to look at Lhiannon, an expression of mute horror in his face. "That parchment. I got it from Eamon and Isolde's private office."

* * *

_Thanks to my kick ass reviewers, Shakespira, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Zute, Aura of Darkness Night, and sleepyowlet. Also thanks to you lurkers and bookmarkers; I appreciate the time you take to read my not-so-little tale._

_Also, if you feel so inclined, I posted a one-shot telling the story of how Lhiannon and Anders met at the Circle of Magi. It's called "Hide Me." If you could read and review it, I'd appreciate it!_

_Speaking of one shots, anybody wondering why Loghain was handing a number of sovereigns to Ambassador Cera? I posted a second one-shot called "The Errand." It was inspired by one of my reviewers; you'll have to read it to find out who and why. :)  
_


	35. Throwing Down the Gauntlets

Loghain paced uneasily in his office. Varel had just brought him two new coded letters from Cauthrien and the contents caused his blood to both boil and freeze in his veins. A dark look crossed his features as his gaze landed on the pieces of parchment that lay side by side on his desk.

Someone had made an attempt on his seneschal's life.

Cauthrien's coded letter said that they caught the perpetrators responsible for the attack on Seneschal Thorne. It appeared not to be an attack meant to kill him, but meant to get the Teyrn's attention. In that respect, they succeeded. Cauthrien had interrogated the perpetrators; they broke amazingly fast and with little coercion, her letter said. They were paid by a contact from Redcliffe to cause unrest in Gwaren to hopefully draw the Teyrn and, with any luck, his Commander back to the teyrnir. As the Teyrn would no doubt be investigating the source of the unrest with the zeal he was known for, it would leave the Warden Commander open and unprotected for those that would follow. Loghain scoffed when he read that line; if they thought Lhiannon a delicate flower who would not put up much of a fuss, then they were ill informed indeed.

A dull ache began to settle itself behind Loghain's eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to will the ache away. He felt himself being torn between duties. Lhiannon had entrusted Vigil's Keep and the Grey Wardens to him while she was in Redcliffe, but the situation in Gwaren was becoming dire and he was needed there as well. Cauthrien would not have called him there if the situation were not serious. Loghain's deliberation was made easier by Varel's presence; his competency was great and his skills as seneschal considerable. Varel could easily be entrusted to handle affairs at both the Vigil and Amaranthine while he and Lhiannon were absent. Their combined absence would be short; perhaps two weeks at most. If those wanting to cause discord in Gwaren were seeking a challenge, he would give them one at their own peril. His decision made, Loghain stood from his desk, snatching up the letters and making his way through the halls to Varel's office.

Varel was seated at his desk, hunched over several bound ledgers with a quill in his hand, his brow wrinkled in concentration. Loghain knocked on the doorjamb to get the seneschal's attention. Varel looked up and waved Loghain in. "Warden Loghain, please have a seat," Varel said warmly, indicating a chair from across the desk. Putting his quill down, Varel sat back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. "What can I do for you?"

Loghain scowled before answering, holding the letters up for Varel. "These letters from my lieutenant in Gwaren indicate the conspirators have tried to gain a foothold there. They assaulted my seneschal."

Varel sighed heavily, leaning forward in his chair and propping his forearms on the top of his desk. "They grow bolder, Warden. We must be hampering their efforts for them to grow so bold. Will he survive?"

Loghain scowled, his features going dark. "Yes, Ser Cauthrien assures me that Thorne will recover." Loghain sighed, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose again; his head was beginning to feel like someone was jabbing a dagger into his skull. "I need to go to Gwaren immediately and assess the situation there. I'm not happy about it. The Commander left me in charge and I care not for shirking the duty she entrusted to me. If all can be set to rights in Gwaren quickly, I should return in about a month."

Varel nodded solemnly, bringing his steepled hands up to his face. "I can understand that. I'm sure the Commander will too, once she knows why you had to go."

Loghain reached over to where Varel kept his blank parchment and quills, grabbing both. He began to scratch on the paper. "I will leave a letter for her here, giving her some of the details and to seek you out for the remainder. As for the Grey Wardens, leave Anders in charge." A grimace crossed Loghain's face; Anders was not his first choice to leave in charge of the Grey Wardens. That would have fallen to Nathaniel, but since he was with Lhiannon in Redcliffe, Anders would be the next in line. "Make sure you work with him closely, Varel. He is often more concerned about material things and humor than in serious work."

"As you wish, Warden; I shall work closely with Anders." Varel paused a moment, drawing a curious glance from Loghain as he wrote a second note. "Or in this case, is it 'Your Grace'?" Varel grinned at Loghain.

"I suppose 'Your Grace' is appropriate in this instance," Loghain agreed with a wry grin, placing a dab of wax onto the parchment and pressing his seal into it, sealing the letters. He handed them to Varel. "The first letter remains with you; give it to Lhiannon when she returns." He paused; Varel saw a melancholy look pass over Loghain's face for a brief moment before it fell away. "Please place the second note in her private chambers." Loghain rose from his chair, nodding at the seneschal before leaving.

There was one last stop he had to make before making haste for Gwaren. Loghain hurried to his quarters, opening his small lockbox and withdrawing a number of sovereigns and the blue silverite ring, moving quickly through the halls to find Ambassador Cera. As he approached, Cera looked up from her workbench and the sword she worked on, her brow slightly furrowing. "Warden, I'm sorry; the rune tracing is not here just yet..."

Loghain held up a hand to stop her as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring. "Ambassador, I must make an emergency trip to Gwaren. The tracing will be here before I return. I wished to give you the ring now so that there would be no delay in your work." He held the ring out and Cera took it, locking it away in her workbench and waving her hand over the drawer, enchanting it to keep the ring safe.

"You mentioned engraving something other than the rune tracing?" she asked.

Loghain nodded, quietly explaining to Cera what he wanted engraved on the ring in addition to the rune tracing. Cera brought out a piece of parchment, putting Loghain's suggestion to paper. After Cera drew for a moment, Loghain nodded his approval. "See to it, Ambassador. I will come for the ring as soon as I return from Gwaren." He looked at Cera, his eyes narrowing. "I trust you will speak of our business with no one, yes?"

Cera nodded; Loghain watched as a corner of her mouth threatened to tick upward in a grin. "Certainly not, Warden. I shall keep this between us."

"Thank you," Loghain said, giving the mage a curt nod as he turned away in a swirl of his cloak. Within the hour, Loghain and several soldiers were racing south on the road from Vigil's Keep, setting a punishing pace for Gwaren and the troubles that awaited him there.

* * *

"You found this in Eamon and Isolde's private office?" Lhiannon asked, resting her hands on the table and leaning toward Teagan as he worked to compose himself. "It was with other blank pieces of paper? Like in a file?"

Teagan nodded, the color finally beginning to return to his face. "Yes. Isolde was working there when I arrived. She had pulled a piece of paper from her desk as I was talking to her earlier today. She is preparing for a salon once winter breaks and was writing letters inviting a number of noble ladies to Redcliffe..."

Sigrun giggled, drawing everyone's attention to her. "Hey, Lhi. I wonder if you're on the guest list?"

"Let's hope not," Lhiannon grinned, returning her gaze to Teagan and motioning for him to carry on.

With a nod, Teagan continued. "Her quill had been writing strangely, so the first piece of paper was ruined and she discarded it. She had been called out of the office by one of her ladies as we talked, so I took the discarded paper and a blank sheet."

"Does this mean Isolde is the one writing the letters?" Sigrun asked.

"It's possible, but we need to find out for certain," Lhiannon said, looking at the ruined paper. It was mostly swirls and blots of ink; there were a couple of smudged numbers that could have been a date but it was difficult to tell. Turning to the blank piece, she saw faint impressions on it, like someone writing with a heavy hand on the piece of paper before it. She furrowed her brow as she studied the paper when an idea struck her. She went to the fireplace in her room, pulling a small coal from inside. Returning to the table, she took the blank piece of paper that Teagan brought and began to lightly rub the coal across the paper, coaxing the impressions to come forward. After a moment, they all could faintly see the impression of words on the paper. After wiping her hands clean on a nearby cloth, Lhiannon grabbed one of the notes that Tomas had provided them and compared the handwriting.

They matched.

"Maker's breath," Garavel swore. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."

"Now we know who wrote the letters," Teagan sighed, rubbing his forehead with one of his hands in disbelief. "I can't believe she would _d_o this."

"Oh, I certainly do," Lhiannon replied, looking up at Teagan from the papers on the desk. "Let's consider a few events from the recent past. I spared Loghain's life at the Landsmeet. You told me afterward that Eamon wanted him executed and I'm sure Isolde was in agreement with him. Think about this, Teagan; Bryce Cousland is dead and Fergus Cousland is a new, and as yet unproven, Teyrn. Fergus will be looked at with a degree of uncertainty until he proves himself worthy of his late father's inheritance.

"Now let's say for the sake of argument that Loghain _was_ executed at the Landsmeet. With both teyrnirs weakened, Eamon becomes possibly the most powerful man in Ferelden, save one: the King. That kind of power and influence would appeal to any man's ego; or his wife's, especially if she thinks she's better than her current station indicates. However, with Loghain still very much alive and his daughter still Queen, Loghain will have a stronger voice with the monarchy than Eamon, especially since he tried to have Anora put aside. Alistair is leaning more on Anora for guidance now than he would Eamon, so that further erodes whatever influence Eamon would have had.

"But there's more. Jowan, who is _my friend_, poisoned Eamon so he wouldn't interfere until the issues concerning the monarchy were settled. So instead of Loghain being brought to justice for poisoning Eamon, the Queen names him Teyrn in the same breath as my being named Arlessa. Isolde feels she has justifiable reasons to hate me, even though I saved Eamon and Connor. The sins I have supposedly committed with Loghain far outweighs that fact, in her mind at least."

"Could she be a bard?" Nathaniel quietly asked. "Could she have been training as a bard in Orlais before moving with her family to live in Ferelden? I know her father was the Arl of Redcliffe during the occupation."

"I suppose it's possible," Lhiannon said, shrugging her shoulders. She thought about Nathaniel's words for a moment before scoffing. "Though judging by her actions lately, she probably hasn't practiced her trade in a long while. If she had been a bard at one time, she is the worst one I've ever seen _now_."

Teagan looked at Lhiannon, his face twisted in a grimace. "You must forgive me, Lhiannon. Isolde has been part of my family for a long time. I must admit that my feelings in this matter are torn. I can see plainly what she has done, but I still have a hard time accepting it."

Lhiannon reached over and put her hand on Teagan's. "I understand, Teagan, and I greatly appreciate everything you have done for me. If you want to leave now and not be part of what we must do, you can. I would, however, swear you to silence on this matter. I don't need to tell you how dangerous the situation could become for everyone if you spoke about this to anyone other than those of us here."

Teagan's face became hard as he looked at Lhiannon. "No, Lhiannon. I must be here to see this through to the end. If Isolde is indeed behind the plot against you, she needs to be brought to justice. Maker have mercy; this will likely tear our family apart."

Lhiannon placed her hand on Teagan's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, offering him a small amount of comfort; she sensed the days ahead would be difficult indeed for him. Pulling her hand away, she turned to look at the others in the room with her. She looked at each one in turn, their eyes on her waiting for what their next move would be; she had one move that she was sure would work in their favor.

"All right then," Lhiannon said to them, nodding and lightly banging her hands on the table. "I know what we can do to get Isolde to make a move. I can almost guarantee this challenge will work."

Nathaniel looked at Lhiannon for a moment before one of his eyebrows shot up in grim amusement as a grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. "You are a cheeky one, Commander," he chuckled, wagging a finger at her in mock reproach.

Lhiannon looked at Nathaniel and with one look at his face, knew that he was on the same page as her. She returned her grin with a wolfish one of her own. The others gathered around them bore slightly confused expressions, wondering just what the two Wardens had in mind.

"Hey, the rest of us would like to know what you're planning. No fair keeping us in the dark," Sigrun complained, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing a lighthearted pout in Lhiannon's direction. Lhiannon looked at her and grinned.

"I plan on invoking the Right of Conscription for Jowan."

Garavel and Teagan both sharply inhaled, their gasps loud in the quiet of the room. "Are you sure that's wise, Commander?" Garavel asked. "I thought the Wardens only recruited the best and brightest. I thought Jowan was to be made Tranquil; doesn't that mean he would not have survived his Harrowing?"

Lhiannon shook her head at Garavel. "Not necessarily. Jowan was going to be made Tranquil because of the rumors he dabbled in blood magic. The Chantry is rather twitchy about such things and prefers to act now and ask questions later. He is a fine mage and regardless, I think he will make a fine Grey Warden."

"Do you think he will survive the Joining?" Nathaniel asked.

Lhiannon sighed, nervously fingering the earrings in her ear. "I hope so."

* * *

Lhiannon and Sigrun woke early the next morning, each assisting the other in donning their Grey Warden armor for the day. Lhiannon wanted to meet with Arl Eamon early for his permission to see Jowan. She had hoped to speak to Jowan before invoking the Right, but if Eamon—or Isolde for that matter—pressed the issue, she would invoke the Right first. Jowan deserved to know her plans to make him a Grey Warden before Eamon did and she would do everything she could to make sure that happened.

Lhiannon had decided the night before that if Jowan survived the Joining, he would be taken to Garavel and the Vigil's guards in the soldiers barracks at Redcliffe Castle for his own protection. Nathaniel and Garavel were already there, waiting for either Jowan to arrive or for Lhiannon and Sigrun to arrive with the bad news.

Lhiannon sheathed Spellweaver in its scabbard and watched as Sigrun sheathed her daggers. She also tucked her small throwing daggers into various pockets hidden in her Grey Warden armor. Lhiannon still had not seen Sigrun throw her daggers, but what Loghain told her was impressive. When this affair was said and done, she planned on asking Sigrun for a demonstration.

"Are you ready to see the Arl?" Sigrun asked, sliding the last of the throwing daggers in to a hidden pocket in her right greave.

"I am," Lhiannon nodded, walking toward the door. As they left the room, Lhiannon noticed that the servants in the castle were looking at her warily. Some were looking at her with outright disgust. Evidentially, their Arlessa made sure they heard the story about the Grey Warden harlot in their midst. Lhiannon found that she could not have cared less what they thought of her. She nearly laughed out loud at the completion of that thought; it sounded just like Loghain. Her heart gave a brief pang at the thought of him; she missed him terribly and wanted to return to Vigil's Keep, and his waiting arms, as soon as possible.

The Grey Wardens arrived at the Arl's office. He sat as his desk, pouring over a large ledger when they arrived. Lhiannon knocked crisply on the door and waited for him to raise his eyes from the ledger. He picked up a bookmark, placing it between the pages and shut it before he looked up to acknowledge his guests.

"Good morning, Commander. Warden Sigrun," Eamon said, nodding to each in turn. "What can I do for you this morning?"

Lhiannon stood at the door, her hands clasped behind her back. "Arl Eamon. I wish to see Jowan."

"I'm sorry, Warden, but the guard is currently going through shift change right now. I do not want to…"

Her patience all but exhausted, Lhiannon briskly walked into the Arl's office, stopping at his desk and glaring at him with fire in her eyes. "Arl Eamon, I tire of these delays. You will take me to see him. _Now_." Her voice conveyed the annoyance of being put off by the Arl the day before and his apparent stalling now.

Eamon glared at Lhiannon, seemingly taken aback by her curt attitude and tone of voice. "Commander, I understand that you are upset over both his impending execution and what happened at dinner last night, but I hardly think that calls for such abruptness."

"You'll forgive me, ser, but this has been a trying experience and what happened at dinner only exasperates that," Lhiannon said firmly, still holding the Arl's eyes with her own. "I wish to see Jowan. Once this ordeal is over with, I plan on leaving immediately for Vigil's Keep."

Eamon stood, resigned, knowing that the Commander would not rest until she visited with the condemned mage. "Very well, Commander. I will take you to see him."

* * *

"Hello, Jowan."

Jowan was laying on his cot, his eyes closed as he contemplated what had happened to him over the last year. His execution was scheduled for tomorrow and he was trying to set things right with the Maker before then. He hoped that he would actually see the Maker after his death; the alternative was truly frightening.

Lhiannon saw him open his eyes after a moment and look toward the bars of the cell. He was still wearing dirty clothes and looked thinner and more disheveled than before. Dark circles stood out prominently in severe contrast to his frightfully pale skin. His wrists were still manacled and connected to the wall nearby. He rose in his cot and Lhiannon watched as his eyes widened as he took her in.

"Lhi," he said, slowly rising from the cot and coming to the cell door. He smiled broadly at her, looking at her impressive armor and the dwarf she had with her. "Wow, you look so striking with that heavy armor."

"I'm Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden now, Jowan. I'm also the Arlessa of Amaranthine."

"An Arlessa?" he said, scoffing with delight. "How did the Chantry take that news?"

Lhiannon shrugged. "I'm not sure. I haven't heard from anyone in the Chantry yet. I'm sure some of them aren't too happy. Ask me if I care what they bloody well think." Lhiannon motioned to Sigrun beside her. "Jowan, this is Warden Sigrun."

"Nice to meet you Jowan," Sigrun chirped. Jowan studied Sigrun for a moment. "You're Legion of the Dead, aren't you?"

Sigrun smiled at Jowan, her brows raised in surprise. "I was, but I'm a Grey Warden now. Heh, I'm still a dead woman walking though!"

Jowan chuckled at Sigrun's answer; Lhiannon noticed that the spunky dwarf had that effect on everyone she met. Even Loghain had made a joke to her the first time they met after they defeated the broodmothers in Kal'Hirol.

Lhiannon turned back to Jowan, putting her hands through the bars to take his. She glanced over to see the guard on duty occupied with his card game at the table near the door.

"Jowan, I have a proposal for you," Lhiannon began, squeezing his hands.

"What kind of proposal?" Jowan asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at her warily.

"I can invoke the Right of Conscription on you. You can become a Grey Warden. I have to warn you though; the Joining is dangerous. You could still die."

Jowan looked at her, a melancholy smile spreading across his face. "Lhi, I'm dead already if I do nothing. If I agree to take the Joining and live, what happens then?"

Lhiannon shrugged. "Well, you'll return to Vigil's Keep with us. I have another Grey Warden here with me, as well as the Captain of the guard and several soldiers from Vigil's Keep. You'll help us fight the darkspawn. I will, however, have one requirement for you if you decide to accept."

Jowan's brows knitted together. "What requirement is that?"

"You will not use blood magic, Jowan. I won't tolerate it. It's one thing to use it in the most extreme circumstances. I had to do it myself once…"

"_You_ used blood magic, Lhi?" Jowan asked, his face disbelieving.

She nodded. "Yes, I used it once against a shapeshifter that turned into a high dragon. I can tell you about it later. That is my one requirement, Jowan. No blood magic unless there is no other option. I won't have Vigil's Keep seen as a refuge for every blood mage in Ferelden. The Chantry is likely unhappy enough that I have a noble title; I don't want to add more fuel to the fire."

"Well," Jowan said, pulling one of his hands from Lhiannon's and running it over his mussed hair. "I'm hardly in a position to disagree. But I do see your point; blood magic should only be used in the most extreme circumstances. I've already lost so much because of blood magic; my love, my freedom, and all but my life itself." Jowan was quiet for a brief moment, considering, before he met Lhiannon's gaze. She saw the resolve in his expression. "I accept."

Lhiannon looked into Jowan's eyes, grasping his hands tightly again. "Then you'll take the Joining? Become a Grey Warden?"

"If that is what you want of me, yes. I'll take the Joining."

Lhiannon nodded, releasing Jowan's hands. Lhiannon turned to Sigrun, who had pulled a small pick from her armor and held it up for Jowan to see.

"You know how to use one of these?" Sigrun asked before quickly hiding it within her palm.

Jowan nodded. "I have a basic knowledge of it."

"Could you pick the lock of your manacles if you had to? Like if the guards decided that they wanted you dead before your execution?" Sigrun paused and giggled at her own pun.

"I can do that," Jowan agreed, giggling along with Sigrun at her pun. Glancing toward the guard, Sigrun passed the pick through the bars to Jowan, who quickly tucked it into his smallclothes. "I'll use it only if I have to."

Lhiannon nodded. "All right, Jowan. Be at the ready. I'm going to ask the Arl to release you into my custody to become a Grey Warden. If he balks, I'll invoke the Right immediately. I have a feeling I will be back here shortly to have you take the Joining."

"I'll just stay right here," Jowan quipped. Lhiannon heard Sigrun snickering behind her. If Jowan survived the Joining, he and Sigrun would be two peas in a pod.

* * *

_A/N: In looking at my last bunch of chapters, I've noticed that they are getting pretty lo______ng. I'm going to split some of the longer, upcoming chapters into more manageable bites. Better for everyone, methinks. Take this chapter; I had to split it in two. It was getting ridiculously long._

_______If you're not sure what the conversation between Loghain and Cera was about, mak________e sure you read my little one-shot called "The Errand". It explains all._

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers Shakespira, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Aura of Darknes__s Night, Zute, and Enaid Aderyn (kudos to you for plowing through the story all at once...I hope you didn't get a screaming case of eyestrain!). Thanks to all you readers, lurkers, bookmarkers, and those that marked the story as a favorite. I appreciate it! I never thought when I first started this tale that it would take off like it has. It just blows my mind! Please keep the reviews coming; I enjoy them all!  
_


	36. Thwarting the Plans

Lhiannon and Sigrun returned to Arl Eamon's office. This time, Isolde was with him, putting several ledgers back on shelves when the Grey Wardens arrived. Lhiannon and Sigrun shot each other a curious look. _This is going to be very interesting indeed_, Lhiannon thought. She would try to convince Eamon to release Jowan into her custody first and have the Joining preformed at Vigil's Keep among all the Grey Wardens; if he resisted, she would invoke the Right. _If he resists? Maker's breath, this isn't the Fade; of COURSE he's going to resist. What are you thinking?_

"Arl Eamon, do you have a moment?" Lhiannon asked, steeling herself for what was to come.

Eamon looked up from the paperwork on his desk as Isolde shot a withering glance over her shoulder at Lhiannon, who ignored the gesture by keeping her gaze focused on the Arl. "Of course, Commander. What can I do for you?"

"I would like Jowan to join the Grey Wardens."

Lhiannon never saw a person spin about faster than the Arlessa did just then. "_What_? No! You can't do that!" Isolde quickly rushed over to Eamon's side, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet. She pointed emphatically at Lhiannon. "You can't allow her to conscript him, Eamon! Not after what he did to you and Connor."

Eamon looked at Lhiannon with wide-eyed shock, which quickly turned to stone as Isolde spoke to him. "I'm sorry, Commander," Eamon began, his voice taking on a frosty tone. "I cannot allow that. You may call me vengeful and petty if you wish, but I will not allow him to live; not after what he did to my family."

"Eamon, the Joining is dangerous," Lhiannon calmly explained, keeping her eyes on the Arl. "There is a strong possibility Jowan may not survive."

"That's not good enough," Isolde spat at Lhiannon. "I want to see his body swinging from the gallows. Hanging him _is _certain."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Isolde, Commander," Eamon said. "Jowan will be executed tomorrow as planned."

Lhiannon took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, willing her frayed nerves to calm. "Then I hereby invoke Right of Conscription. Jowan will take the Joining immediately and return to Vigil's Keep as a Grey Warden."

Isolde's face went red with rage. She quickly rounded the desk and stood in front of Lhiannon, her breath hot in Lhiannon's face. "No! You cannot do this. We will not comply!" She turned to the Arl, motioning him toward the door. "Have the maleficar killed now, Eamon, before she can conscript him!"

Lhiannon looked at Isolde, narrowing her eyes at the Arlessa. "You don't have a choice. The Right cannot be denied. And if you are thinking of taking this matter before the King, let me assure you that he _will_ allow it. He is a Grey Warden himself and knows full well that the Right cannot be denied."

"Isolde, please, come to me," Lhiannon heard Eamon beseech his wife. Isolde paused for a moment, glaring at Lhiannon in a blind fury before finally backing away and joining Eamon. Eamon took Isolde's hand before looking at Lhiannon with dark anger in his eyes.

"I wish you had not done that, Commander," Eamon spoke softly, the anger evident in his voice. "I will accompany you to the prison to inform the guard. You will perform your Joining and then I would ask you to leave the castle. Finish whatever other business you have Redcliffe, then be on your way."

Lhiannon nodded once to Eamon. "As soon as Jowan is able to travel, we shall return to Vigil's Keep; I will not have him endure travel if hs is unwell." She then turned to Isolde and nodded, giving the Arlessa what she hoped was a neutral expression. "I bid you farewell, My Lady." She and Sigrun turned to go back to the dungeon where Jowan was being held, listening to the sounds of vicious swearing coming from the Eamon's office; in Orlesian, of course. Lhiannon recognized a few of the more colorful metaphors and tried not to laugh as she and Sigrun walked through the halls and out of earshot. Eamon followed close behind, saying nothing as they traveled. Once they reached the dungeons, Lhiannon and Sigrun moved aside so the Arl could admit them. She and Sigrun quickly got to work, pulling a chalice and a small vial of corrupted blood out of their pack and mixing it with a small amount of wine.

The Arl stood next Lhiannon and Sigrun as the guard opened the cell and released Jowan from his manacles. They dropped to the floor of the cell with a heavy thud. Jowan walked out of the cell to stand before Lhiannon, who held the small chalice with the wine and darkspawn blood mixture. The smell of corruption made Lhiannon's stomach turn, as it always did. She brought her eyes up to meet his; he looked at peace, prepared to meet the next phase of his existence, no matter what it may be.

"Jowan, there are words we say before each Joining. They have been said at every ritual since the first. Today, Sigrun will say them." Lhiannon turned to Sigrun, nodding for her to begin. Sigrun's sweet voice filled the dark passage in the prison, intoning the words to begin the Joining. As she finished, Lhiannon handed the chalice to Jowan, nodding to him as he took it. Jowan said nothing, but simply brought the chalice to his lips and quickly drank the mixture without hesitation. Almost immediately, he dropped the goblet, screaming in pain as the corrupted blood coursed through his veins. Lhiannon felt the alarm growing as Jowan's screams intensified. He fell to his knees, grasping his head in both hands as he howled in agony for several moments. Finally, he slumped forward to the floor and lay still.

Sigrun looked up at Lhiannon, the blind fright evident in her eyes. Lhiannon knelt down and pressed a visibly shaking hand to Jowan's neck, looking for signs of life. His heart still beat; it was erratic, but still beating. Lhiannon let out the breath she did not realize she was holding. "He lives," she sighed to Sigrun.

Behind her, Arl Eamon's fists clenched and he whirled about, stomping through the dungeon and out the door.

* * *

Cauthrien was waiting for Loghain at the manor gate when he and his guards arrived; they had made it from Vigil's Keep in record time, shaving two days off the journey. Loghain could see that his lieutenant had not slept much in the past few days. She had assumed Thorne's duties while he recovered from the attempt on his life. Loghain knew _he_ did not feel much better than _she_ looked; the punishing pace he set from Vigil's Keep, coupled with the fading effects of the mortality spell, left him weary and short of temper.

"I am glad to see you so quickly, Your Grace," Cauthrien greeted him, turning toward the manor. Loghain quickly climbed the steps, ignoring his fatigue, and proceeded to where Cauthrien had Thorne kept under guard until she could interrogate the perpetrators. "I didn't think it would be safe for Thorne anywhere else but here," Cauthrien explained as their armored footsteps echoed through the manor. "I wanted him under the protection of the manor guard until we could fully investigate."

"You did the right thing, Cauthrien," Loghain said as they reached the guest suite where the seneschal was recovering. He opened the door to see Thorne seated at a small table, working in a ledger. He looked up to see his Teyrn approaching. "Welcome home, Your Grace," Thorne greeted Loghain, his voice low and hoarse.

"Thorne," Loghain began, taking in the battered form of his seneschal. "It is good to see you recovering so quickly."

It was clear that the conspirators had beaten Thorne to within an inch of his life. Though the attack was nearly two weeks ago now, the rainbow of bruises still on Thorne's skin made Loghain seethe. Thorne's face was still slightly swollen and Loghain also saw the fading bruises on his throat showing where they had nearly choked the life from him. One of Thorne's wrists had been splinted and as he rose to greet Loghain, he noticed the seneschal's pronounced limp.

"They meant to send you and the Warden Commander a message, Your Grace. They had hoped to bring you both here so they could attack her while you were investigating the assault on me." Thorne scowled with concern. "The Commander isn't here, is she?"

"No. She is currently in Redcliffe," Loghain said.

"That is where the thugs that beat Thorne received their orders from," Cauthrien said, crossing her arms on her chest. "They were paid twenty sovereigns each to send that message." She paused briefly, her brow raised in questioning. "Is the Warden Commander safe in Redcliffe?" Though Cauthrien and Lhiannon were not friends, she did not want to see harm come to the Commander. She was important to the Teyrn, Cauthrien knew, and for that fact alone, she would treat the Commander with respect.

"The Commander has two other Grey Wardens with her, as well as the Captain of the Vigil's guard and several soldiers." Loghain paused briefly and Cauthrien watched his brow furrow slightly. "She is safer with those around her than she would have been alone. Have any other conspirators been spotted in Gwaren?" Loghain asked.

"Not that we have seen, Your Grace," Cauthrien said. "It appears that any others that were here fled or went to ground when their cohorts were captured."

Loghain walked over to the window of the guest suite, looking outside toward the port and the ocean beyond. "What sort of trouble did they attempt to stir up?" Loghain asked both of them. "What of the nobles that appear to have been bribed? What was the motivation behind the bribery?"

"Bann Ceorlic was approached by the conspirators, Your Grace," Thorne explained, setting his splinted arm on the top of the table. "He immediately came to Cauthrien when he heard of my misfortune."

Loghain nodded, a dark scowl on his face; of course the conspirators would approach Ceorlic. There was a great deal of history between Loghain, Maric, and both men named Ceorlic. During the rebellion, Ceorlic the Traitor—as Loghain thought of him—sided with Meghren and was one of the men responsible for the betrayal and attack that killed Maric's mother, Queen Moira. The elder Ceorlic met his fate at the end of Maric's sword, babbling promises of more men and support for the new King. Maric had given Ceorlic's children one day to denounce their father and the acts he had committed during the rebellion. Ceorlic the Younger quickly denounced his father and Maric allowed him to inherit his father's lands. That they bordered Loghain's own served as a deterrent, a quiet warning that the Teyrn was always watching. It was no secret among the nobility that Ceorlic feared Loghain and did everything he could to stay on whatever good side he felt the Teyrn had. Ceorlic knew that the moment he stepped out of line, the Teyrn would be there, sword at the ready. "What did he say?" Loghain asked.

"The eventual goal of the conspirators was to have some of the nobles cause unrest through protests of your being Teyrn as well as a Grey Warden. They wanted to stage work stoppages and withhold their taxes and food shipments to the teyrnir. If the common people and workers began to rebel, it would compel you to return to Gwaren. With the unrest they hoped to cause, they believed you would eventually have to choose between the Grey Wardens and the teyrnir, having been ordered to do so by either the Warden Commander or the Crown itself. They believed you would likely vacate your title of Teyrn, leaving the teyrnir open again for one of their supporters to assume the title."

Loghain scoffed derisively, shaking his head as he did so. "And they thought Ceorlic would be a good start, knowing the past history between me, Maric, and his father? Ceorlic is a complete fool who would lick my boots if I demanded it; the man all but faints in my presence. I have no tolerance for any foolishness from him and he damn well knows it." Loghain paused briefly, rubbing his chin in thought. "But then why the beating?" he asked, furrowing his brow and scowling. "What did they hope to accomplish with that?"

"As I said before, Your Grace, they wanted to lure you and the Commander here and attempt an assassination; if she were assassinated here in Gwaren, that would not have reflected well on you and served to undermine your authority and influence," Thorne explained. "While that was a short term, almost impulsive plan, the long term goals were the bribery of your vassals, undermining your position, and the installation of a new Teyrn. Perhaps they wanted to show you that you could not tend to your duties as Teyrn from Vigil's Keep."

Loghian's scowl deepened; Thorne was right. Had the Hero of Ferelden been assassinated in Gwaren, it could have easily undermined him. "I have managed for years to tend to my duties from afar; they will not change me now. You were able to stop them before they began implementing those plans, yes?" Loghain asked, earning nods from both Cauthrien and Thorne. "Excellent. You both have done well in my absence and in the investigation." Loghain turned to Thorne. "I will stay in Gwaren until those that perpetrated these actions are brought to justice and you feel you are ready to resume your duties."

"The mages say I should be completely healed within a week or so," Thorne said. "I intend to return to duty as soon as possible."

Loghain nodded to Thorne before turning his attention to his lieutenant. "Cauthrien, I want to bring the perpetrators to justice right away. I want to hold a session of court for high justice as soon as possible. Send a messenger to Bann Ceorlic; tell him he is to come to Gwaren immediately. I will send a written summons to him as well as those implicated in the bribery. If the bribed nobles will come forward and both offer testimony against the conspirators and forfeit their ill-gotten proceeds to the teyrnir, they will be shown mercy this one time. If they do not come forward, we shall go to them; I assure you, they will not like that option."

Cauthrien nodded her understanding. "With your permission, I'll take the summons to Ceorlic myself. If I leave tomorrow morning, I can be back in a few days." She raised a brow to Loghain, a wry smirk crossing her features. "I will make sure Ceorlic understands the meaning of haste. Court can be held the day after we return."

"Do it," Loghain commanded, turning his attention once again to his seneschal. "Thorne, I will leave you to rest now. I shall be in my quarters if I am needed."

Thorne nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace." Loghain turned and left, heading for his chambers. He was rankled that the conspirators would attempt sedition here in Gwaren and that some of his vassals would entertain their notions. "Mercy" was not often in his vocabulary, but he needed their testimony against those involved in this conspiracy of assassination and sedition. If mercy to a few would bring those more deeply involved to justice, then so be it. Regardless, their names would be marked; death would await them the next time they so much as stepped one toe out of line. He had promised himself, after all, that he would find the dark heart of this conspiracy and thrust his blade through it by any means necessary.

His thoughts turned to Lhiannon as he entered his chambers, thinking of when he was last occupying these rooms, with her in his bed for the first time. The first time he told her he loved her. He removed his armor and lay on the bed, slinging his arm over his eyes in his weariness. His limbs began to grow heavy as he rested, his thoughts wandering in any number of directions before returning to Lhiannon. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost feel her breath brushing against his skin as he lay in his bed. He missed her and was anxious to conclude his duties here in Gwaren and return to her side. He began to think of what he would say to her when he returned to Vigil's Keep to explain his absence. He also thought about what he would say in asking the most important question he would likely ever pose to her.

* * *

"We need to find somewhere for Jowan to rest," Lhiannon said, her hand on Jowan's clammy brow. She directed a small amount of healing magic into him to help calm the fever that began to rage through him. She also wanted him cleaned up and fresh clothing brought to him.

"You know that grouchy old Arl won't let us stay at the castle," Sigrun said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Besides, I don't want to hear the Arlessa whining like a stuck nug."

"I would rather not stay at the inn, but we may not have a choice. Jowan can't travel right now; I don't want to move him far," Lhiannon said as she raised her eyes to speak to Sigrun.

"Excuse me, Commander," a voice said quietly from behind them. Lhiannon turned to see the Redcliffe guard standing behind them, looking down at Jowan with concern. "My name is Pickering; 'Pick' for short. I'm the second in command of the armies here. The barracks are at your disposal, if you wish it." He paused briefly, considering. "You are still the Hero of Ferelden and highly regarded here in Redcliffe, regardless of what the Arl and Arlessa think. You and your Wardens would be most welcome with us."

Lhiannon shook her head at Pick. "I don't want to see you encounter the wrath of the Arl and Arlessa. To say that they are not happy with me is putting it lightly."

Pick moved to sling Jowan over his shoulder, waving off Lhiannon's concern with a laugh. He easily picked up the mage as if he were nothing more than a sack of grain. "Come, Commander; follow me to the barracks." He led them from the dungeon area to where the soldiers were housed in their barracks.

Nathaniel and Garavel were quickly at Lhiannon's side when she arrived at the barracks with the newest Grey Warden in tow. Pick gently set Jowan on the bed before stepping back, nodding a greeting to his counterpart Garavel. Jowan was deathly pale except for the bright red flush on his cheeks. His breathing was shallow, but beginning to even out.

"Will he survive?" Nathaniel asked, looking at Lhiannon with concern.

"I hope so," she confided. "I've never witnessed a Joining like his where a candidate went through so much pain but survived. He's made it thus far, so I'm optimistic."

"How did the Arl take the news?" Garavel asked.

"Not well," Lhiannon admitted, sighing heavily as she pulled at the tie holding her hair back, running her hand through the locks as they fell free. "I fear the Grey Wardens won't be welcome in Redcliffe any time soon. At least, not any of us currently present."

"Again, you are most welcome to stay here tonight," Pick offered. "It's obvious even to me that your newest recruit cannot travel yet." Lhiannon nodded, thanking Pick for his hospitality.

Lhiannon breathed a healing spell, placing her hand on Jowan's forehead to confer it. He was still burning with a raging fever, but her spell managed to calm the redness in his cheeks. He moaned softly and turned his head, but remained unconscious. "I think I will need to heal him occasionally. I only brought a few lyrium vials with me; I will likely need more." She turned to Nathaniel and Garavel. "As much as I don't think I should, I need to find more lyrium. That means a trip into town."

"You're not going alone," Nathaniel said as Garavel nodded his agreement.

"Warden Nathaniel is right, Commander," Garavel said. "We should accompany you. I don't think Redcliffe is safe for you just now."

Lhiannon nodded. "I fear you're right. Garavel, make sure the Vigil's guards are posted near Jowan while we're gone; I don't want him meeting with an 'accident' while we're in town."

They quickly made their trip into Redcliffe, purchasing Lhiannon's lyrium. She also bought a set of light armor and a dagger for Jowan; she wanted him to have some sort of protection other than mages robes for the trip back to Vigil's Keep. As they reentered the barracks in their haste to return to Jowan's side, none of them noticed the figures watching them from the shadows.

* * *

A small sound jolted Lhiannon out of her light sleep. She held her breath and listened, waiting for the sound to come again. There...it sounded like a footstep, light and clothed in soft materials rather than metal. Lhiannon slowly moved her hands out from beneath the covers of her bed, bringing the freedom of movement she would need to cast a spell. Reaching out with her tainted senses, she found the presence of another Grey Warden nearby: Sigrun. Lhiannon began to call forth a small ball of flame, waiting to breathe the last word until she was ready to move. She waited, listening for the sound again. There was nothing for several moments before she finally heard something, even closer to her than before. Lhiannon suddenly rolled to the side, away from the sound as she breathed the last word of the spell and tossed the ball of flame up toward the ceiling, where it hovered overhead and bathed the room in a faint, orange light. Quickly looking up, she saw a shrouded figure creeping toward her bed with a small dagger in hand. She also saw the small form of Sigrun directly behind the intruder, stalking it like a predator, her face held in a dangerous snarl.

Once the figure saw that they were discovered, it lunged at Lhiannon, trying to sink the dagger into Lhiannon's body. Lhiannon darted away as Sigrun quickly rushed forward, grabbing the intruder around the waist and, twisting, threw the figure to the ground. Her dagger was quickly at the figure's throat and Sigrun snarled at the intruder. "Epic fail," she snorted. "You couldn't sneak up on a deaf genlock."

Lhiannon bounded to the door in her nightclothes, calling the Vigil's guards over and telling them to gather Nathaniel and Garavel from the next room. Once the guard bounded off, Lhiannon went to her armor stand, pulling Spellweaver and joining Sigrun, who still sat on the shrouded intruder with her dagger pressed firmly into their throat. Lhiannon pointed her sword at the intruder's neck.

"Should we remove the shroud?" Sigrun asked, reaching forward. Lhiannon held a hand out to Sigrun. "Not yet. I want Nate and Garavel here first." Lhiannon looked down at the figure pinned to he floor. The intruder looked warily between the Grey Wardens; Lhiannon could also see what appeared to be raw hatred there. There was no doubt in Lhiannon's mind just who this was.

A noise at the door told Lhiannon that Nathaniel and Garavel had arrived with two Redcliffe guards in tow. "What in the Maker's name is this?" Garavel asked. "Are you well, Commander?"

"I am, Garavel," Lhiannon assured him, turning toward the guards at the door. "Go and get your Arl," she barked at them, turning back to watch the intruder warily.

"But, My Lady, the Arl is surely sleeping at this time of night," the senior guard protested.

"_Then wake him_!" Lhiannon snarled, not taking her gaze or Spellweaver off the intruder. The guard ran off to wake the Arl. When Eamon arrived a number of minutes later, he was dressed in little more than his sleeping clothes with a cloak thrown hastily around him. His hair was mussed and dark circles framed his eyes. He stared with confusion at the scene before him when he first entered the room, but his eyes quickly widened in shock when he saw Lhiannon and Sigrun had their weapons trained on a shrouded intruder. A dark look crossed the Arl's features.

"What is this? Someone has tried to harm you?" the Arl asked, looking warily at the shrouded figure on the floor.

"Perhaps you should ask our guest yourself, since you know her so very well," Lhiannon retorted, reaching forward to grasp the shroud covering the intruder's face. Lhiannon yanked the shroud off the intruder to reveal the snarling face of Arlessa Isolde.

"Hello there, Isolde," Lhiannon said icily, "now why am I not surprised to see _you_ here?" She turned back to regard the Arl, who was staring down at the floor in what looked like disbelief. "As you can see, I'm still in my nightclothes. Isolde appears to be dressed in light leathers. Her buckles are covered in dark lacquer and the soles of her boots are supple leather rather than hard soled. Oh yes, and she's holding an impressive looking dagger. I'm no expert, but it appears she's acting as an assassin would." Lhiannon paused, looking at the Arl suspiciously. "Or a bard. An extremely _poor_ bard at that."

Eamon appeared to come to his senses as he marched forward and grabbed Sigrun by the shoulders, trying to pull her off Isolde. "Get off of my wife, dwarf," he growled at her, the venom dripping from his voice.

"Not until we have ascertained what has happened here, Eamon," came a new voice from the doorway. Everyone looked toward the door and saw Bann Teagan standing there, his face torn by anguish. It appeared he had quickly dressed and hurried to the barracks when the guards had summoned Eamon. He looked down at Isolde, shaking his head slowly. "Isolde, I never thought you could come to this."

Isolde glared at Teagan before turning to Lhiannon. She said nothing, just simply glared.

Teagan turned to Eamon, sadness on his face. "Eamon, Isolde is behind the conspiracy to kill the Commander. The Grey Wardens have letters she wrote to her agents, giving the orders to harm her."

Eamon looked both angry and anguished. "What? Is this true, Isolde?"

Isolde snarled at her husband, her face turning a shade of scarlet in her apparent blind rage. "It's not as if you and the others didn't want to see this harlot dead either." Isolde returned her glare to Lhiannon, her eyes narrowing in hate. "_La mort est à venir pour vous, _mage," she snarled quietly, her voice low so that only Lhiannon and Sigrun could hear. Sigrun pressed the knife a little deeper into Isolde's throat. "You're awful snarky for being on the business end of a dagger," the dwarf whispered, drawing her own glare from Isolde.

Silence descended on the room as everyone looked at Eamon, waiting for his response. It was Teagan who spoke first. "Eamon, is this true? You also wanted to see the Commander dead?"

Eamon continued to glare at Isolde; Lhiannon could not tell if it were in anger, disgust, or something else. After a long moment of silence, Teagan spoke again, his voice turning hard. He marched to Eamon's side, jerking on Eamon's shoulder so he would look Teagan in the eye. "Is this true, Eamon? You _will_ answer me, by the Maker."

The Arl sighed heavily, shaking his head in apparent disbelief as Teagan's gaze bore into him. "I didn't think Isolde would actually _do_ anything. We weren't happy with the Commander and her public endorsement of Loghain and her conscription of the mage, but I never thought she would _act_ upon her urges. It was something we had spoken of in private..."

As the words hung in the air between the brothers, Lhiannon glared at Eamon, her anger and disappointment clear in her voice. "Isolde will return to Vigil's Keep with us. I will ask the King to come to Vigil's Keep to hear the charges against her and dispense justice." Lhiannon turned to Nathaniel. "Find manacles to secure the prisoner." With a nod, Nathaniel turned and ran through the door, barking the orders to the guards nearby.

Eamon quickly stepped forward to Lhiannon, a plea crossing his features. "Is it necessary to take her all the way back to Vigil's Keep? I do not want to see harm come to her on the way. Let her stay here while we wait for the King to come to Redcliffe."

"And have her 'escape'? I think not, Eamon," Lhiannon replied. "She comes with us." Lhiannon turned to Garavel. "Gather the men and make the necessary preparations; we leave for Vigil's Keep at dawn." She turned toward the door as Nathaniel rushed into the room, a pair of manacles and accompanying key in hand. He quickly moved to Sigrun's side and helped the dwarf pull Isolde to her feet, securing her wrists behind her back. Lhiannon watched as the manacles snapped shut, then turned to Garavel and pulled him to the side. "When we leave, I want you and two of your fastest men to ride to Denerim," she said, her voice low so that only Garavel heard it. "I'll give you a message for the King, but I also want you to relay the details in person."

"Understood, Commander."

As Garavel moved to gather the men and secure Isolde, Lhiannon was left to ponder the Arlessa's words; what did she mean by 'the others'? Who were they? _Where_ were they? Just how much was Eamon involved in everything? Was he a clueless husband or a willing participant? He had already admitted that he and Isolde had discussed their mutual dislike of her; she found it hard to believe that Eamon would be completely uninvolved. Lhiannon found herself fighting the urge to simply gather her entourage, strap Isolde to the back of their carriage, and immediately make haste for Vigil's Keep in the dead of night. She would feel much better within the walls of the Vigil, with Loghain, her Wardens, and her soldiers around her. Fear settled into her gut, threatening to overwhelm her. It was time to leave Redcliffe behind and the sooner it faded in the distance behind her, the better. Shaking her head and trying to quash her fear, she began to dress, preparing for the long day ahead.

* * *

A figure moved silently through the halls of the barracks, keeping to the darker recesses until they reached a door leading outside. The figure moved toward the stables where the soldiers kept their horses, guiding an already outfitted horse through the stalls and outdoors. The rider quietly mounted and maneuvered the horse outside town, quickly moving off toward the northwest and setting a punishing pace away from Redcliffe in a rush of thundering hooves.

* * *

___So why Ceorlic? I figured the conspirators would try to turn Ceorlic's fear of Loghain against him. If he fears the Teyrn so much, why not throw his lot ____in with them and force change? I think, after so many years, his fear of Loghain is so ingrained, it's almost instinctual. He is going to do whatever it takes to stay on Loghain's good side; a pissed off Loghain as a next door neighbor probably isn't a good thing. S________o, off he goes to Cauth____rie________n, quaking in fear. _

___________________________I haven't forgotten about Eamon; he will be dealt with. ;)_

___________________________I may approach a couple of you more experienced authors in the coming days with a small dilemma I am having near the end of the story; specifically, where to end this one and pick up the next one. I find myself wavering and I think a second, third, and/or fourth opinion may be needed.  
_

___Extra special thanks to my reviewers Shakespira, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Aura of Darkness Night, Dante Aligheiri, and Enaid Aderyn. You're th________e __best! I very much appreciate your support ______________and feedback, more than you may think.  
_

_As always, thanks to you readers and lurkers, and those who bookmark and favorite the story. I appreciate it! I always look forward to reviews and PM's too.  
_


	37. Looking Forward to Home

Dawn arrived to find Lhiannon and the Grey Wardens boarding a boat to sail Lake Calenhad from Redcliffe to Kinloch Hold. The trip by boat would shave almost two days off their journey back to Vigil's Keep. Lhiannon wanted to get Isolde into the dungeon there as soon as possible. She was also looking forward to seeing Varel and her Wardens again, especially Loghain. Though they were only parted for a couple of weeks, it felt like an eternity.

Captain Garavel and two soldiers raced east along the West Road before the sun was completely over the horizon. Lhiannon had given Garavel a sealed scroll containing a message for the King, bidding him to come to Vigil's Keep as soon as possible. The written message was slightly vague, which is why Lhiannon ordered Garavel to Denerim; he could give the King as many details as he wished in person.

The boat sailed across a relatively tranquil Lake Calenhad, gently rocking with the motion of the water. The smell of the water on the wind served to chase some of Lhiannon's melancholy mood away. Unfortunately, not everyone had a steady stomach on the trip. Lhiannon found herself casting a number of healing spells at Sigrun. The dwarf was just getting used to having a sun and sky above her; putting her in a boat to be gently rocked by the waves was too much for the dwarf to handle. She spent most of the trip below deck in a hammock, her arm slung over her eyes when she was not gripping a bucket for dear life, begging the ancestors to come and take her back to the stone.

It was early the following morning when the spire of Kinloch Hold came into view off in the distance. Lhiannon wished that she had the time to stop and speak to the First Enchanter regarding recruits for the Grey Wardens, but with Isolde in her keeping, she simply did not have that luxury. She made a mental note to schedule a trip to Kinloch Hold as soon as time permitted. The boat gently sailed to a waiting dock, not far from where the North Road and Imperial Highway met. Their horses and carriage were unloaded from the boat and prepared to continue their journey over land. As Sigrun stepped onto dry land, she fell forward, seemingly trying to hug the ground beneath her.

"Oh, bless the ancestors! Solid ground! It's not stone, but it's better than that sodding water." Lhiannon laughed out loud as she watched Sigrun drop a kiss onto the dirt, then try to spit the dirt off her lips as she stood.

Lhiannon and the soldiers secured Isolde to a seat in the carriage with a long chain, not wanting the Arlessa to try and escape at some point during the journey. Sigrun climbed up in the carriage with her, sitting across from Isolde with her dagger drawn. Isolde warily watched the dagger as they traveled, occasionally muttering in Orlesian. Jowan was also in the carriage next to Sigrun, awake now, but still weak from his Joining and unable to ride one of the horses just yet. Lhiannon felt a great sense of relief at seeing her friend open his eyes for the first time as a Grey Warden.

As they traveled on horseback along the North Road, Nathaniel came up beside Lhiannon after one of Isolde's fits of angry muttering. "How much Orlesian do you know, Lhi?" Nathaniel asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"Very little, Nate. Colorful metaphors, more or less. Why?"

Nathaniel jerked his head toward the snarling Arlessa of Redcliffe. "She doesn't have very nice things to say about you. About any of us really, but especially you."

Lhiannon looked at him with feigned sadness. "I'm hurt. Really."

One of Garavel's soldiers spurred his horse to come beside Lhiannon and Nathaniel. "Commander," he began, looking at the rapidly setting sun ahead of them. "Shall we make camp for the night, or just rest for a couple of hours before moving on?"

"I want to return to Vigil's Keep as soon as we can. We can stop for a couple of hours to rest; I'll stay on watch with Sigrun. The rest of you should try and get some sleep."

Nathaniel looked at Lhiannon with concern. "And what about you, Commander? You also need your sleep."

Lhiannon scoffed slightly before giving both Nathaniel a small smile. "I can rest for a bit in the carriage, once we get back on the road. We need to keep moving."

"What about Isolde?" Nathaniel asked. "You want to take a nap with her right there?"

Lhiannon waved her fingers, a magical mist dancing among them and a grin on her face. "That's what a sleep spell is for. Pleasant dreams, Isolde." Nathaniel shook his head, chuckling.

They stopped just before sunset, those who would be resting rolling out their bedrolls on the ground. Lhiannon stepped off her horse and walked over to the carriage, peering inside to check on Jowan. Lhiannon was pleased to see Jowan awake and talking to Sigrun, while Isolde glared with hate at both of them. He smiled broadly when he saw Lhiannon.

"Hey, Lhiannon," Jowan grinned.

Lhiannon gave Jowan a broad smile. "How are you feeling?"

Jowan moved to exit the carriage, his feet slightly unsteady as he stepped outside. Lhiannon caught his arm to steady him. "I'm feeling a lot better. I've actually been able to heal myself a bit."

"Good, I'm glad to see it." Lhiannon looked at him, the smile dropping from her face. "Jowan, I should warn you—now that you're a Grey Warden, you'll be having dreams…"

Jowan waved her concern off with a small laugh. "Oh, I've already had a dream about the darkspawn. It was nowhere near as bad as some of the ones I've had about Fade demons."

Lhiannon's brow furrowed. "You've already dreamed about darkspawn. And it wasn't bad?"

"Not at all," Jowan said, shaking his head. "It appears that I can block some of them. If I can ignore Fade demons, darkspawn should be no problem at all."

With a laugh, Lhiannon shook her head. "It truly figures that you would be the one to block the dreams. After the difficulties you had with the Joining, I feared the worst. Just consider yourself lucky we recently defeated a Blight; those dreams _would_ have been bad."

"Do you mind if I ride one of the horses when we get moving again?" Jowan asked, looking warily into the carriage. "The Arlessa isn't the most friendly company. I've heard more foul things come from her mouth than I would have heard at The Pearl in Denerim."

* * *

"My Lords and Ladies, the Teyrn of Gwaren."

Cauthrien was standing next to the chair Loghain used to conduct the business of court, calling the proceedings to order. Bann Ceorlic and Thorne sat off to the side and watched as Cauthrien motioned to the back of the hall for the guards to bring in the conspirators. The guards brought in five heavily chained prisoners, all of them shuffling forward and not meeting the eyes of the various nobles gathered in Loghain's hall. They were brought before Loghain, where he appraised each one with his cold, blue stare.

"You are accused of the attempted murder of Seneschal Thorne and sedition against the Teyrnir of Gwaren, each crime punishable by death," Cauthrien said, looking at each of the men in turn. "What have you to say in your own defense?"

The five suspects looked down at their feet; their faces hard and saying nothing.

"Seneschal Thorne," Loghain began, turning toward his right. "Can you identify any of these men as those who attacked you?"

Thorne nodded. "I can, Your Grace. All of them attacked me while I was traveling through town."

Loghain turned his attention to the Bann. Ceorlic held himself stiffly in the presence of the Teyrn, a sheen of sweat on his brow and a single drop slowly rolling down his temple. "Bann Ceorlic; can you identify any of these men as one who came to your home and attempted to include you in their plan of sedition against the Teyrnir?"

Ceorlic nodded, pointing to two of the men. "Yes, Your Grace. The two men on the far left were the ones who approached me at my home."

"And what was it they wanted you to do?" Loghain asked.

Ceorlic shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly nervous under the Teyrn's scrutiny. "They wanted me to withhold my taxes and grain, Your Grace. They asked me to have my people withhold their contributions as well. They asked me to have my people refuse to work in Gwaren. Their goal was to disrupt the daily business of the Teyrnir so that you would be forced to abandon your title, leaving it open for one of their supporters."

"I see," Loghain said, rubbing his chin. "And did they say where their support and funding would come from?"

Ceorlic nodded emphatically, answering quickly; he wanted these proceedings to end as quickly as possible. He was anxious to put distance between himself and the imposing Teyrn. "Yes, Your Grace. It came from Redcliffe."

"Did they mention _why _they came to you?" Loghain asked.

With a nervous cough, Ceorlic nodded again. "They said it was because we have history. That I could help be a catalyst for change." As Loghain held Ceorlic's gaze, the Bann shook his head emphatically. "I would never betray you, Your Grace. You and King Maric were most generous to me."

Loghain's brows lifted slightly. "Indeed," he nodded. "Your loyalty has not been forgotten." Loghain meant his statement to be both agreement with the Bann and a reminder; a subtle warning that Ceorlic's loyalty was not an option.

The proceedings continued for the next hour; Cauthrien called several more banns and lords forward to either support or refute the charges against the conspirators. All had said these five were the ones responsible for the attempted sedition. They surrendered the sovereigns they received from the conspirators, and in turn, Loghain granted them mercy with a stern warning: their names were now marked. If they were found guilty of sedition or any other crimes against the teyrnir later, justice would be swift and uncompromising. They would face forfeit of their lands and death on the gallows. Turning his attention to the five perpetrators, Loghain glared at each one for several moments, reviewing the testimony he had just heard.

"It is clear to me through the testimony of these numerous witnesses that the five of you are guilty of attempted murder and attempted sedition," Loghain stated, rising from his chair and walking down to the five men. "I would suggest that if you have anything to say in your own defense, do it now before your sentence is carried out."

"Your mage will never rest. She will never find peace or sanctuary. We will hunt her until she draws her final breath.

"Your lands will fall into chaos and you will join her in death if you insist on meddling."

Loghain looked at the man standing second from the left. He was a small man with dark eyes and a plain face. Someone who could easily blend in to any crowd and not be noticed. Loghain drew his sword and approached him, his jaw clenched as he moved close.

"And who is 'we'? Tell me, and go to the Maker with a clean conscience," Loghain growled, his glaring look causing the man to take a half step back before he gathered his strength and stood tall.

"Magic must serve and never rule. Those that consort with them are bound to their fate," the man stated defiantly, refusing to say any more.

Loghain nodded, his expression turning dark. "So be it then." He grabbed the conspirator's shoulder and plunged his blade through the man's chest, the end coming through the other side streaked with blood. The conspirator gasped, a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. He held Loghain's stare with a defiant gaze of his own before he slowly slumped to the ground and died.

The other four conspirators stared wide-eyed at their companion's body before shifting their eyes to the Teyrn and the blood streaked sword he held in his hand. Loghain looked at each of them in turn. "Would any of you care to say anything?"

They stared ahead, their expressions defiant. Loghain stood in front of each one, glaring at them as he waited for them to speak. None of them had.

Loghain turned to Cauthrien. "Get them out of here. Carry out their sentence." He walked back toward the dead conspirator crumpled on the floor, a pool of blood growing beneath him to cool on the stone floor. "Get this thing out of here." Loghain looked up from the corpse to the gathered nobles in his hall. "Court is concluded," he barked, leaving the hall and returning to his office.

Cauthrien nodded, motioning for the guards to lead the prisoners back to the dungeon before shepherding the nobles out of the hall. Two other guards came forward to gather the cooling body of the conspirator on the floor.

She carried out the sentences herself when she arrived at the prison shortly thereafter.

* * *

Lhiannon thought the hulking form of Vigil's Keep never looked better as her group of riders approached the fortress. When it had become clear earlier in the day that they would arrive home that afternoon, she found her anticipation and excitement growing. She had caught the leader of the conspiracy against her. One new Grey Warden was joining them. A bright joy settled into her heart at the thought of seeing Varel, her Wardens, and Loghain again. Especially Loghain. Her heart sang at the thought of seeing him again; she missed him greatly in the weeks they were apart. He would be completely recovered from his encounter with the draining spell at the Stark farm; _that_ _is, until I get my hands on him tonight_, she thought wickedly to herself, a grin spreading across her face. She thought of the feel of his skin beneath her hands, warm and soft, yet firm under her touch. Pleasant memories of his calloused hands wandering on her flesh caused the heat to build within her blood and she heard it clamoring for release. He would be lucky to escape unscathed, as randy as she suddenly felt.

They entered the walls of the compound, where Lhiannon ordered the guards to take Isolde to the dungeon. She turned to Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Jowan and motioned for them to follow her into the Vigil. Varel and her Wardens were waiting for them in the hall, all dressed in their Warden armor. They were an inspiring sight. Her eyes took in each of her Wardens; Lhiannon's stomach dipped when she saw that Loghain was not among them. Casting her tainted senses out, she tried to sense him nearby, but failed. She felt the smile on her face falter.

Lhiannon motioned for Jowan to come forward as they stopped in front of the assembled Wardens. "Everyone, this is our newest Grey Warden, Jowan."

Anders quickly stepped forward with a large grin and shook Jowan's hand heartily. "Hey, Jowan. It's great to see you again. Lhi told me you destroyed your phylactery, you lucky bastard. You'll have to tell me how you did it."

Jowan laughed as Anders quickly pulled him forward to meet the others. As they moved off, Varel moved to Lhiannon's side. Varel had seen the look of great expectation on Lhiannon's face as she entered the hall and watched it quickly fade as she looked about and did not see Loghain. Varel thought of Lhiannon not only as his Arlessa but as a close friend or family member and it broke his heart to see her hopes dashed.

"Commander, come with me to my office."

"A moment, Varel," she said, turning toward the gathered Wardens. "Give me a short bit to speak with Varel and center myself. I'll be back shortly to give you all a briefing on the trip to Redcliffe." Moving back toward Varel, Lhiannon looked at him, dread creeping into her stomach. "What's happened, Varel? Where is Loghain?"

"He is fine, Commander, but had to leave a number of days ago for Gwaren."

"Gwaren?" Lhiannon asked, her brows furrowing in confusion and irritation as they walked the halls toward Varel's office. "What in the bloody hell did he go to Gwaren for? I left him in charge of Vigil's Keep while I was away."

"Ser Cauthrien called him there. The conspirators were trying to make inroads in Gwaren to try and force Loghain to choose between his teyrnir and the Grey Wardens." They had arrived at Varel's office and he motioned Lhiannon to enter ahead of him. She pulled off her cloak and set it on the chair next to her, settling into the other one while Varel reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. He held it across the desk to her; she reached out and took it, looking at the wax seal on it before returning her gaze to Varel.

"He left this for you. It tells of what happened."

Lhiannon frowned and opened the letter, scanning the contents. Loghain's precise script brought a melancholy mood upon her as she read what he had written there. The letter explained the bribery of nobles, the beating of Thorne, and Cauthrien's capture and interrogation of the conspirators. After she finished reading it, she returned her eyes to Varel; he was looking at her with concern.

"Damn Isolde and her scheming," Lhiannon growled, angered at the contents of the letter. "Did Loghain say when he would return?"

Varel nodded. "He had hoped to be back in about a month. If all goes as he hoped, he should be back in two to three weeks." Varel leaned forward, his hands clasped together on his desk. "He was reluctant to leave, knowing that you entrusted him with Vigil's Keep. He felt, however, he had little choice but to go and see to matters there."

With a scoff, Lhiannon gave Varel a small, melancholy smile. "Yes, I can imagine that he was reluctant. He is not one to shirk duty. It must have been grave if Cauthrien felt she had to call him there. He trusts her judgment with little question."

"That is exactly what he said, Commander." Varel rose from his chair, coming around the desk and settling into the chair next to Lhiannon. He reached out and took her hand. "I can see that you not only rely on him, but miss him and are vexed with the situaton. You are not only my Arlessa but also my friend; it pains me to see you distressed."

Lhiannon squeezed his hand gratefully. "Sometimes I wish it was simply the darkspawn we were fighting and not this political nonsense. Thank you, Varel. You are a good friend and a brilliant seneschal. I could ask for no better." She rose from her seat and, dropping a light kiss on his cheek, gathered up her cloak and left for her quarters.

With a sigh, Lhiannon closed the door to her office behind her moments later, bolting it so she would not have unexpected visitors barging in on her. With her angry yet melancholy mood, she wanted to have a few minutes alone. She knew that she would have to brief her Wardens about the trip to Redcliffe in a short while, but wanted to quickly clean up and center herself first. Coming back to the Vigil to find her Second gone to Gwaren had not been anticipated; she would have to see what fires needed to put out soon.

She walked into her living chambers, peeling off her riding leathers as she did so. There was a tub full of clean water waiting for her as she entered her bedchamber, continuing to remove her leathers and place them on the stand along the wall. As she turned toward the tub to heat it up, she noticed a small item resting on her pillow. Curious, she walked toward it and saw that it was a parchment not unlike the one she had brought back from Varel's office. Lhiannon sat on the bed, picking up the parchment and breaking the seal. She unrolled it, seeing Loghain's familiar scrawl upon it. She began to read.

_Lhi,_

_I apologize for having left so suddenly. You e__ntrusted me with the Wardens and Vigil's Keep and I hope my departure __has not disappointed you too greatly. I had not intended to travel to Gwaren this soon, but circumstances there required my presence. V______________________arel can give you the details if he has not done so already._

_Know that my h__eart is always __with you._

_All my love,_

_L_

Lhiannon could not help the smile that spread across her face nor the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "He called me 'Lhi'," she chuckled to herself. "He's never done that before." Placing the letter on the bed beside her, she cast a flame spell on the water to heat it before settling in for her bath.

* * *

"It is done, Your Grace. Their bodies burn as we speak."

Cauthrien stood in the doorway of Loghain's office, her hands clasped behind her back waiting for permission to enter. Loghain looked up from the paperwork on his desk and waved her in. Thorne was also there, seated across from Loghain. His bruises were almost completely healed and his limp nearly gone. The splint on his arm was to remain for another couple of days as the bones continued to heal.

"Excellent, Cauthrien," Loghain said, setting seal on the last of the documents outlining what transpired at the day's proceedings. "I have had just about enough of these conspirators causing trouble for the Commander and Ferelden."

"Do you think we have seen the last of them, Your Grace?" Thorne asked, gingerly fingering the splint on his arm.

Loghain shrugged and sighed. "I honestly don't know, Thorne, and that troubles me. As for Gwaren, I believe they will think twice about trying to gain a foothold here again. Our justice is swift and uncompromising."

"I have ordered the army to keep watching for any other suspicious activity, Your Grace," Cauthrien said. "I have also sent a few soldiers out into the countryside with Bann Ceorlic and some of the others. They are posing as farm workers. If they hear of anything suspicious, they are to report to Gwaren immediately."

"Very good," Loghain said as he replaced his pen in the inkwell and neatly stacked the blank parchment on his desk. He turned his attention to Thorne. "I do not mean to rush you Thorne, but when do you think you will be able to return to duty? I must return to Vigil's Keep as soon as possible."

Thorne held his splinted hand up. "The mages say I should be ready in just a couple of days, Your Grace. I am most anxious to return to duty. All this convalescing is making me jittery."

Loghain snorted humorously at his seneschal. "I understand completely." He turned back to his lieutenant. "Cauthrien, I would like several candidates from the army to accompany me back to Vigil's Keep. We need to add to the Grey Warden's ranks."

"I have a number of candidates in mind for you already, Your Grace," Cauthrien confirmed. "With your permission, I will take my leave and tell them to make ready to leave at your command."

"As soon as the healers give Thorne their blessing, I will leave for Vigil's Keep."

* * *

Lhiannon had been practically locked away in her office, pouring through the paperwork that had been mounting on her desk since she left for Redcliffe and Loghain left for Gwaren. Anders was supposedly in charge of the Grey Wardens while they were both gone, but it had appeared that paperwork was not high on his priority list. Lhiannon swore that once she caught up on her paperwork, she was going to drag Anders into her office by his ear and make him complete some of her paperwork, just to torture him with it. She had been back from Redcliffe for several days and it seemed she hardly made a dent in the pile.

"Commander, may I have a word with you?"

Lhiannon looked up from her desk to see Varel standing in the doorway with a young woman at his side. She was petite and fair, with blonde hair that she wore in braids pulled back from her brow and temples.

"Of course," Lhiannon said, standing and motioning them in. "Have a seat."

Varel guided the young woman into the office as Lhiannon came around her desk to greet her. "I am Warden Commander and Arlessa of Amaranthine Lhiannon," she said, holding her hand out to the young woman, who took it and shook it firmly.

"My name is Aura," she said, her accent sounding Antivan to Lhiannon's ears. "My husband, Kristoff, was one of the Grey Wardens sent from Orlais not long ago."

"Kristoff was sent to investigate sightings of darkspawn in the Blackmarsh. It's an area of the arling that few people venture into," Varel explained.

Lhiannon nodded her understanding, turning back to Aura. She was worrying with the sleeve on her dress, a look of deep concern on her face. "Kristoff hasn't returned yet. I had hoped that with the attack on Vigil's Keep that he was safe and still investigating the Blackmarsh. I fear for his safety, Commander. He should have returned by now."

"You have been staying in Amaranthine this whole time?" Lhiannon asked.

Aura nodded. "Yes, Commander. I have been staying at the Chantry of Our Lady Redeemer, praying for Kristoff's safe return." She leaned forward, grasping Lhiannon's hand in her own. "Please, Commander, can you search for him? Even if it is to confirm my worst fears? Not knowing what happened to him is breaking my heart."

Lhiannon put her other hand over Aura's, looking into the woman's eyes with sympathy. "Of course, Aura. He is a fellow Grey Warden. We look out for each other. I shall take some of my Wardens with me and see if I can find your husband, one way or another."

Aura sat back, visibly relieved and a great sigh escaping from her lips. "Thank you, Commander."

Lhiannon turned to her seneschal. "Varel, please find Aura a room here in the Vigil. She can remain here while we look for her husband." As Varel nodded his agreement, Lhiannon turned once more to Aura. "Vigil's Keep is at your disposal, Aura. Make it your home while we search for Kristoff. If you need anything, please ask any one of us."

Aura nodded, a grateful tear slipping out of her eye. She dashed it away with a delicate finger. "Thank you, Commander. Maker's blessings on you."

The Grey Wardens and Varel were gathered in Lhiannon's office later that day, planning the search for Kristoff in the Blackmarsh. Anders, Nathaniel, and Jowan stood off to one side, bantering quietly among themselves. Oghren propped himself up against a wall, disgruntled that Lhiannon had pulled the tankard of dwarven ale out of his hand as he entered her office. She had also cast a healing spell on him, causing the pleasant drone of ale to leave his body. Sigrun and Velanna sat in the chairs across from Lhiannon's desk, quietly discussing the significance of tattoos each of their races had; it appeared Sigrun's perky demeanor had broken through the elf's prickly attitude and the sight of them chatting caused Lhiannon's mouth to turn up in a slight grin. Varel stood near the map on the wall while Lhiannon was perched on the corner of her desk. Loghain's absence was like a large hole, both in the ranks of the Grey Wardens and in her heart.

Lhiannon cleared her throat to bring the meeting to order. "I've called you all here to discuss a missing Grey Warden, Kristoff. He was one of the Orlesian Wardens sent here just before the darkspawn attacked Vigil's Keep. Kristoff went to the Blackmarsh to investigate rumors of the darkspawn massing there; he hasn't returned. Varel and I have spoken to his wife and we have agreed to search for him."

"The Blackmarsh is a nasty place, Commander," Nathaniel said walking over to the map and pointing to the area in question. "I've always heard that it was once inhabited, but it's just a deserted swamp now." Nathaniel paused, his brow rising in amusement. "We used to dare each other as teenagers to camp out there for one night. No one ever took it."

"There was a village there at one time, Commander," Varel began, pointing to a location on the bay. "A small port was here. According to the legends, one day all the trade stopped and the village and its populace ceased to exist. That's just legend, of course."

"Legends often have a basis in truth," Velanna said, turning toward Lhiannon as she spoke. "I would not discount such tales."

"You speak true, Velanna. I have no intention of disregarding the legend," Lhiannon agreed. She turned back toward Varel and Nathaniel. "What else can you tell us of the Blackmarsh?"

"There have been reports of strange creatures sighted there, Commander, though no one has ever brought one back," Varel remarked. Nathaniel turned and put his hand on Varel's shoulder to gain his attention. "Don't forget the lights, Varel. Supposedly, people saw strange lights there."

"So, let me see," Sigrun said, beginning to count on her fingers. "We have a deserted village, strange creatures, missing people, and weird lights? Sounds like a job for the Grey Wardens!"

"Are you volunteering to go then, Sigrun?" Lhiannon asked with a grin.

"Sure! I'm dead already. Sounds like I'd fit right in there."

Lhiannon laughed, hearing the others snorting and giggling in the room with her. She looked toward Nathaniel. "It goes without saying, Nathaniel, that you'll also accompany me. You're from Amaranthine, so what knowledge you have of the area would be most welcome."

Nathaniel nodded his head. "Wouldn't miss it, Commander."

Lhiannon turned to Anders. "We will likely need your healing skills on this journey, Anders."

"Oh, without a doubt," Anders said, crossing his hands over his chest. "I won't say any more about your lack of healing prowess." He jabbed Jowan in the ribs. "You never made her practice her healing skills? What were you thinking?"

Jowan shrugged. "What was I to do? Practice blood magic openly and then ask her to heal me? Yes, that would have gone over well with the templars."

"Velanna," Lhiannon said, turning to regard the Dalish elf. "While I'm gone, please work with Jowan on magic other than blood magic. I told him he's not to use it unless absolutely necessary."

A scowl crossed Velanna's face, which was not uncommon for her. "I understand, Commander."

"How long does it take to get there?" Sigrun asked, turning in her chair to look at Varel and Nathaniel. Both men regarded each other and shrugged. "A day there and a day back?" Nathaniel asked Varel, who nodded in agreement. "That sounds about right, Warden."

"All right everyone," Lhiannon said, standing up in front of them. "We shall leave for the Blackmarsh in the morning."

* * *

Garavel and his guards rode into Vigil's Keep as Lhiannon and the other Grey Wardens were making final preparations to leave for the Blackmarsh. The Captain quickly rode up to where Lhiannon was speaking to Varel, leaving final instructions for him. He leapt off his horse and ran up to Lhiannon.

"Commander! I bring a message from the King," he said, nearly breathless as he stopped and handed Lhiannon a scroll. The wax holding the letter closed bore the seal of Calenhad, the King's seal. Lhiannon quickly opened it and scanned the contents.

"What does it say, Commander?" Varel asked, moving to her side and peering over her shoulder.

"The King and Queen will be here in two weeks to hear the charges against Isolde. They have also sent messengers to Redcliffe, Rainesfere, and Highever asking Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan, and Teyrn Fergus Cousland to attend." Lhiannon handed the scroll to Varel, who quickly read it before placing it in a pocket in his armor. "Thank you Garavel."

"I shall begin making preparations for their arrival, Commander," Varel said, nodding to Garavel in greeting.

Lhiannon mounted her horse and held her hand out to Sigrun, who scampered into the saddle in front of her. Lhiannon was glad that the stable boys had a saddle on hand that would accompany both of them on one horse. "We'll be back soon, Varel."

"Good luck, Commander. Maker watch over you."

* * *

_One Warden home and one to go. Well, home for thirty seconds before having to run off again. :)_

_I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but it was needed to keep the storylines moving in the direction I need them to go. More action in the next chapter._

_So, why wouldn't Varel mention Kristoff's absence before? My thought is that with the Blackmarsh being a wild, almost completely uninhabited part of the arling, it would take some time for Kristoff to comb the wilderness tracking down the darkspawn, complete his investigation, __and report back. Aura, being Kristoff's wife, would notice when his absence became unusually long, something Varel may not know as he and Kristoff would have only recently met._

_S______h____out outs and many ____________thanks to my reviewers Shakespira (whose advice has no measure), nithu, Arsinoe de Blassenvile, Aura of Darkness Ni________gh____t, and Enaid Aderyn (who gave me a further point to consider). Many thanks to you._

_As always, thanks to you readers who take time out of your busy days to give me a few moments to spin my tale. _


	38. Justice in the Blackmarsh

The clouds drew closer and closer to the ground as the Grey Wardens approached the Blackmarsh. The sun's rays became thin as the path narrowed and the countryside was blanketed in shadows. Dead, twisted trees dotted the landscape and the stench of rotting vegetation assailed their nostrils. Off the path, the ground took on a wet, muddy look. Nathaniel had warned them that even if the ground looked solid just off the path, chances are it was not. A dense fog began to move in, limiting their vision and making them feel as if they were suddenly blind.

"I wish the sun would come back," Sigrun muttered to Lhiannon, looking toward the sky apprehensively.

"You're not the only one."

"Ugh, what is that smell?" Anders groused from behind Lhiannon. She turned her head to see his nose wrinkling in disgust. "My robes will stink for _days_ if we stay here much longer."

They found a large patch of solid ground, tethering the horses to trees in the area before continuing the rest of the way into the Blackmarsh on foot. They walked for some time before coming across a weathered signpost in their path, covered in layers of dirt. Lhiannon walked up to the sign, brushing off the dirt with her armored hand.

"What does it say?" Sigrun asked, bounding up to Lhiannon's side.

"It warns travelers that the Blackmarsh is haunted," Lhiannon said, grimacing. "Wonderful."

Nathaniel came forward and looked at the sign, uneasiness written on his face. "My father used to tell us stories of the Blackmarsh when we were children."

"What did he say?" Anders asked, doing his best to keep his robes away from the dirty sign as they passed.

Nathaniel looked about warily, the desolate, seemingly haunted landscape sending chills up his spine. He felt himself shivering involuntarily. "My father said evil magic killed everyone here just before the rebellion against the Orlesians. It was a great mystery at the time."

"What kind of magic could do that?" Sigrun asked, fascinated by Nathaniel's tale.

Nathaniel shrugged as they began to walk once more up the path deeper into the march. "No one knows what type of magic. All anyone knew was that the marsh was abandoned when the monsters appeared."

"Ooh, monsters. Sounds pretty scary," Sigrun chirped, fingering her weapons and looking about nervously.

"When I was a boy, I used to dream about traveling to the Blackmarsh and setting things to rights," Nathaniel continued, scoffing as he did so. "The silly dreams of a young boy."

Lhiannon shrugged, grinning at Nathaniel as he walked beside her. "Well, you're here. How silly are those dreams now?"

Nathaniel laughed, a rich sound so completely out of place considering their current surroundings. "If someone had told me I would end up here, I would have laughed at them. 'Hero of the Blackmarsh' indeed."

Lhiannon laughed with him, knowing exactly what he meant. She thought back to the time she and Loghain had finally admitted their love for one another and became the unlikely pair they were now. If someone had looked into a scrying ball and told her that they would fall in love, she would have laughed at them too, right before marching them off the the healers to have their head examined. "I know exactly what you mean, Nate."

"When I returned to Ferelden, I expected to take command of my father's garrison, but look at me now. I'm a Grey Warden fighting both darkspawn and demons" Nathaniel raised a brow at Lhiannon, a grin turning up one corner of his mouth. "An interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say Lhi?"

"Absolutely," she agreed, turning to look at Nathaniel with a smile. "Since you wanted me to send you to the gallows rather than have you become a Grey Warden."

Nathaniel chuckled, scoffing lightly as he did so. "It seemed like a good idea at the time…"

Anders quickly held his arm out in front of Lhiannon, halting the Wardens' forward progress. He tilted his head, concentrating on the path in front of them. "Do you hear that?" he asked quietly. Sigrun quickly pulled her daggers, crouching low and listening. Lhiannon eased Spellweaver from its scabbard as she heard Nathaniel quietly draw his bow and ready an arrow in his hand.

They slowly moved forward, backs pressed close to each other and watching warily for anything that may appear from the fog to confront them. Ahead of them, they began to hear heavy breathing and snuffling sounds. Suddenly, a blight wolf bounded out of the fog and leapt forward, knocking Nathaniel to the ground in a great fit of snarling. Nathaniel's bow went flying out of his hand, but luckily, the arrow did not. Grasping the arrow in both hands, Nathaniel shoved it into the muzzle of the blight wolf, where it was immediately snapped in two by the creature's powerful jaws. Sigrun was instantly on the creature's back, driving her daggers into its flesh as Nathaniel tried to hold the snapping, dripping muzzle away from his face.

Lhiannon turned to look ahead and saw more blight wolves headed for them, howling a warning to any others that may be close. She turned to Anders. "Freeze them!" she cried out. As Anders prepared the ice spell, Lhiannon began to call forward an earth spell, boulders suddenly flying from her hands at the frozen blight wolves. As the boulders landed, the creatures shattered into fragments, thawing on the spongy ground.

They quickly turned to see Sigrun still slashing at the blight wolf that had landed on Nathaniel. The wolf had opened several large wounds on Nathaniel's arms and face and they could see Nathaniel's struggles beginning to weaken. Lhiannon rushed forward, plunging Spellweaver into the wolf's side as Sigrun leaped off. They heard Anders shouting the words to a healing spell as they dragged the weakening wolf off Nathaniel, pulling it several feet away. As Sigrun buried her daggers into the wolf's neck, Lhiannon thrust her sword into the creature's heart. After a moment, it fell still.

Lhiannon turned to see Anders helping Nathaniel to his feet, his wounds beginning to close as Anders conferred the healing spell. She and Sigrun quickly rushed over to him.

"You all right?" Lhiannon asked, worry in her voice. She watched as Anders' spell continued to close the nasty bite marks and gouges covering Nathaniel's arms and face.

Nathaniel took a deep breath and nodded, sighing with relief as the pain began to subside. "Yes, I'll be fine."

"We should probably keep moving. The sooner we can find out what happened to Kristoff, the sooner we can go home," Anders said, looking at the dead wolves in disgust. "This certainly isn't the most pleasant place I've ever visited."

They began to move forward through the marsh again, the fog still a heavy blanket around them. As they drew closer to where the village should be, they began to find the moldering bodies of dead darkspawn. They had clearly been here for some time.

Lhiannon poked a dead genlock with her sword. "I think this may be Kristoff's handiwork."

Nathaniel nodded his agreement. "Well, we know now that the darkspawn are here. We also know that something is killing them."

The continued moving along the path toward the village, finally seeing ruined buildings through the fog. They followed a path that skirted the village toward the water, hearing the low lapping sounds along the shore. They sensed movement ahead of them and brought their weapons to the ready. Sigrun began to quietly sniff at the air. "Oh, no," she groaned.

Lhiannon turned to Sigrun and saw the look of disgust on the dwarf's face. "What is it?" she asked, listening warily to the shuffling sounds ahead of them.

"Childer grubs," she shrugged, her face wrinkled in disgust. "I hate those."

The first of the grubs appeared not a minute later, rushing at the Grey Wardens and squealing for its companions, who heard the cry and began to scuttle forward. After several minutes, the onslaught of blades and magic cleaved through the group of grubs, leaving their ichor pooling on the ground around them. As they Grey Wardens moved past the carcasses, they spotted what appeared to be a body crumpled on the ground on the path ahead of them. Lhiannon rushed forward, hunkering down next to the body and examining it.

It had clearly been here for a short while, a rancid smell beginning to emanate from the decaying flesh. He had been an imposing man dressed in heavy chain armor, his fallen sword not far away. A white griffon was emblazoned on one of his pauldrons. Judging from the injuries she could see, Lhiannon guessed that he had been in a vicious fight just before he died.

"Is that Kristoff?" Anders asked, coming closer and bending down next to Lhiannon.

"That would be my guess," Lhiannon said, pointing to the griffon on the body's shoulder. "Not the ending I hoped for. We'll have to take the body back to Vigil's Keep for a proper funeral; for his wife's sake, if nothing else."

A rustling from beside them made Lhiannon snap her head to her left. As she jumped to her feet, she saw a hurlock lurch out of the underbrush, hissing angrily as it appeared. Suddenly there were noises all around and as she watched, more hurlocks appeared out of the darkness, surrounding them with their hisses and growls.

She brought Spellweaver to the ready, preparing for the inevitable attack when a new creature appeared on the path behind them. It looked similar to The Withered, but was dressed in black heavy chain, the armor streaked with red. Its face was a ghastly grayish white color, carved with deep wrinkles and mottled with dark spots of corruption.

It laughed at them, a malevolent sound that sent shivers down Lhiannon's spine. "The Grey Warden. That is his body," it sneered, apparently proud of itself.

Lhiannon's eyes narrowed at this newest sentient darkspawn. It began to walk slowly toward the Grey Wardens, the hurlocks accompanying it also beginning to draw closer. They were caught in a vice.

"The Mother said that if the Grey Warden were lured to this place and killed, other Grey Wardens would come," it said, its voice raspy as if had not spoken aloud in some time.

Nathaniel grimaced from where he stood behind Lhiannon, his back to hers and watching the approaching hurlocks warily. "This was a trap then," he scoffed, growling the words as he spoke. "We were fools to fall into it."

The talking darkspawn made a low sound that Lhiannon realized was laughter. "The Mother was right. The Mother is always right."

"Who is this 'Mother'?" Lhiannon demanded, glaring at the creature as it drew closer.

"The Mother is she who sent me; The First," the creature rasped, raising his hands and pointing to itself before indicating the marsh around them. "The Mother wished for the Grey Wardens to come to this place."

The First was now standing so close to Lhiannon, she could have poked him in the chest with the tip of Spellweaver had she reached out. The stink of corruption rolled off him in waves and she heard Anders gagging quietly beside her.

"I bring you a message," The First said, bringing one of his hands up in front of him. Lhiannon and Anders both stiffened as they sensed magical power coalescing around it. "The Mother will not permit you to further _his_ plan. Whether you know it or not, she is sending you a gift."

Dark magic began to swirl about The First's hand, quickly spreading out and enveloping the entire area in a greenish black shimmer. Lhiannon's skin felt like thousands of insects were crawling over it, stinging and biting as the magical energies swarmed over her. She could hear Sigrun's terrified cries from nearby, and heard Nathaniel and Anders groaning inarticulately. There was also an alarmed cry from nearby that Lhiannon finally realized was coming from her own lips. The greenish light suddenly intensified, her eyes searing and blinded before plunging her into dark unconsciousness.

* * *

"A representative from the Merchants Guild in Amaranthine will be arriving next week, looking to establish a guild house here in Gwaren," Loghain explained to Thorne, pointing to a day in the ledger on the desk. "They have helped increase trade in Amaranthine since the end of the Blight, so having their presence here should also benefit our merchants."

Thorne had been given a clean bill of health by the healers and mages earlier in the day. Loghain was in the seneschal's office, making sure Thorne was caught up on the teyrnir's recent business before departing for Vigil's Keep at dawn the following morning.

"Cauthrien is expecting a shipment of silverite metal to come in through the port within the next few days. The ship is Antivan, so make sure there are plenty of guards at the docks. I don't want anything to 'disappear' while they are here."

Cauthrien snorted from where she stood across the desk from Loghain and Thorne. "Antivan sailors have such sticky fingers. They'll take anything not nailed down."

Thorne nodded, chuckling at Cauthrien's observation, "Of course, Your Grace. It shall be done."

Loghain looked up from the ledger, turning his gaze on his seneschal. "It is good to have you back, Thorne."

Thorne nodded his appreciation to the Teyrn. "It is good to be back."

Loghain turned his gaze to Cauthrien. "If you hear anything at all regarding conspirators attempting to cause trouble here again, send me a message at Vigil's Keep immediately." He paused, shaking his head and scoffing. "I tire of these damned conspiracies."

"They shall never prosper here, Your Grace," Cauthrien said with authority. Loghain nodded at his lieutenant. With Cauthrien in charge of security and military matters in Gwaren, Loghain could rest easier. He knew that she was as respected nearly as much as he was by the populace throughout the teyrnir. Conversely, ne'er-do-wells feared her almost as much as they feared him. Between Cauthrien and Thorne, Gwaren was in good hands.

Loghain nodded to Cauthrien. "Keep an eye on the lords and banns that had been given bribes by the conspirators. They may have been granted mercy, but trust will be a long time coming. If they show any signs of treachery, imprison them and let me know immediately."

"As you wish, Your Grace."

"It may be several months before I return to Gwaren," Loghain said, moving his gaze to Thorne from Cauthrien. "I trust you and Cauthrien will run things efficiently while I am gone." Loghain rose from the seat behind the desk and motioned for Thorne to take his rightful place there. "Cauthrien, have the soldiers and Grey Warden candidates meet me outside the manor at dawn tomorrow morning. We leave for Vigil's Keep then." With nods to both his lieutenant and seneschal, Loghain walked from the office, his footsteps echoing through the halls of his manor, intent on completing his last minute errands before leaving for Vigil's Keep in the morning.

Loghain returned to his chambers, preparing his packs for the journey back to Vigil's Keep. He filled his packs with the clothing and supplies he brought from the Vigil and set them by the door where he could quickly grab them as he left. He also decided to bring some of his personal funds to store in the vault at Vigil's Keep; not knowing how long it would be before he returned to Gwaren, he did not want to constantly send armed escorts back and forth to bring funds.

As the sun rose above the horizon the next morning, promising a sunny day and excellent riding, Loghain felt as if he were returning home rather than leaving it. Home, he discovered, was wherever Lhiannon was, be it Vigil's Keep or a bedroll in the wilderness. He looked forward to returning to her side once again and hearing what transpired on her trip to Redcliffe; she would likely still be mourning the execution of her mage friend and he would need to support her in her grief. He also hoped that she was not too angry and disappointed with him for leaving to deal with the issues in Gwaren. Lhiannon was pragmatic, however; she may not be happy that he left, but would likely understand why he did so. At least, that was Loghain's hope.

He also had pressing business with Ambassador Cera when he returned. She should have her task completed by now and he was most anxious to see the results of her crafting. Loghain found that his anticipation was so great, he had to fight the urge to move his accompanying soldiers at a forced march toward Vigil's Keep.

* * *

"Lhi? Are you all right? Lhi? Come on, wake up, Lhi!"

A gentle shaking brought Lhiannon up from the depths of unconsciousness. She saw Anders kneeling over her, the look of concern on his face quickly replaced with relief. "Oh, thank the Maker you woke up!"

Lhiannon moved to stand, Anders helping to steady her as the world spun madly out of control for a few seconds. She blinked a few times before she looked about and saw Nathaniel and Sigrun beginning to stir as well.

"Andraste's blood. What the hell happened?" Lhiannon asked, rubbing her forehead and grimacing.

"It appears we're in the Fade," Anders said, dread in his voice.

Lhiannon looked around. The swamp looked bright as day though Lhiannon could not see any evidence of the sun. The landscape had the familiar shimmering, not quite real quality of the Fade. "Andraste's flaming arse," she breathed, "this isn't good."

"This is the Fade?" Sigrun asked, looking around with both fascination and revulsion on her face. "It's weird."

The Grey Wardens began to take in their surroundings. Around them were the shattered corpses of hurlocks, barely recognizable as the creatures they once were. The crumpled body of The First was also there. As they warily watched, it began to stir. It pulled itself to its feet as Lhiannon and her companions brought their weapons to the ready. The First looked about and Lhiannon swore to herself that it looked confused and horrified. "No! I am not believing that I am here in the Fade!"

Lhiannon brought her sword up and pointed it at The First's chest. "What have you done, creature?" she snarled at it.

The First looked about, still not believing its own corrupted eyes. "No! This is not as it should be. I am being betrayed; trapped in the Fade with the Grey Wardens. This one is a fool."

"You're damned right you're a fool. Rest assured, creature. I'll deal with you first and then The Mother later," Lhiannon growled, preparing to plunge Spellweaver into The First's chest. She heard the familiar sound of weapons being drawn from the Wardens behind her.

The First gave a raspy laugh, sending a chill throughout Lhiannon's body. "This one is thinking that The Mother, she cares not for what happens to The First so long as the Grey Wardens are defeated. The First will leave the Grey Wardens to the children. The First will find its own way out of this world and back to The Mother."

With a wave of its hand and a guttural hiss, childer grubs and darkspawn fell upon the Grey Wardens from all directions. As she fought off one of the grubs, Lhiannon saw The First bound off and around a curve in the path beyond her sight. She swore angrily and took out her frustration a grub that foolishly lunged at her, separating its squealing head from its body. They fought the creatures, finally dispatching them all and standing among the ruined and magically burned bodies, the smell of corruption hanging thick in the air. They spent several minutes catching their breath, with Lhiannon and Anders casting healing spells among them. After the worst of their wounds were tended to, they began to move along the path toward the village in the distance, hoping that their way out of the Fade lay there.

"Halt! Who approaches?"

Lhiannon warily approached the guard standing at the village gate. She held her hands up to indicate that she was unarmed and not a threat. "We are Grey Wardens trapped in the Fade."

The guard lowered his weapon and sheathed it, looking at Lhiannon and the others with a degree of sadness. "Oh. Then you are trapped here just as we are, locked in this endless nightmare of the Baroness' making." The guard sighed; to Lhiannon it sounded overwhelmingly sad. "I almost forgot what it was like on the outside, before we were trapped here."

As Lhiannon and the guard spoke, Nathaniel thought he heard the sounds of intense shouting and clamoring, as if a riot were in progress. "What is happening in there?" he asked the guard, motioning beyond the gates.

The guard's face lit with expectation and hope. "A spirit has come to help free us! If you seek it out, perhaps it can help you too." He paused for a moment, his face growing sad. "I just want this nightmare to end; I want peace." The guard gathered himself and turned to the gate, opening it for the Grey Wardens. "Good luck to you. Maker watch over you."

Lhiannon led the others through the gate and into the village. As they walked the main path toward the manor, they saw villagers scampering about and huddling in the corners and doorways of buildings, muttering nonsensical things as they passed by. Lhiannon felt a profound sadness for their plight. After a few minutes of walking, they rounded a corner and saw the gates of the manor ahead of them, a large group of villagers gathered in front. At the gate itself was an imposing figure in glowing armor, reminiscent of templar armor. His deep, resonant voice carried through the crowd and into the gates of the manor.

"Come out, fiend. Face your crime and its victims!"

As the sound of the spirit warrior's voice faded, Lhiannon could hear the villagers shouting in indignation at the manor. "We're not afraid of you any longer, witch! Come out of hiding, or we shall break down the door and drag you out!"

The armored figure held his hand up to the angry villagers. "Be cautious. The creature that is the Baroness has power within her lair and she well knows it." The figure turned toward the Grey Wardens as they approached, regarding them with narrowed eyes through its full face shield. "And what are you creatures? More minions of the Baroness or more trapped souls that she has tormented?"

Lhiannon stepped forward, nodding slightly to the creature. "We are Grey Wardens, brought here against our will. We are trapped here."

The figure's eyes narrowed further as he looked between Lhiannon and her companions as if assessing their motives. After a moment, he turned back to Lhiannon and spoke. "I know not what a 'Grey Warden' is, but since you are a stranger here, perhaps that is a sign.

"I am a spirit of justice. I have watched this place and seethed at all the wrongs brought upon the trapped people here. I seek to aid them and free them of their torment."

One of the villagers stepped forward and spoke to Lhiannon. "We rose up against the Baroness in our world. When we did, she cast one last spell that brought us all into the Fade. We have been trapped her ever since, still under her rule and subject to her malevolent, vengeful whims."

"We should help this spirit," Nathaniel urged. "It knows the Fade. It may be able to help us in return."

Lhiannon turned to Anders and Sigrun, who nodded their agreement with Nathaniel. Lhiannon nodded at them in agreement, turning back toward the spirit of justice. "We will help you, spirit."

The spirit nodded to her. "Being a Grey Warden appears to make you a noble sort. Your aid would be most welcome here. We now have sufficient numbers to directly challenge the witch."

The spirit turned toward the gathered villagers, raising his fist in the air. "For too long you have been victims of the Baroness' depravity! Too long have her crimes gone unpunished! Let us take the battle directly to the witch and reclaim your freedom!" The spirit turned toward the gate, raising his armored foot and kicking the gate open, causing it to clatter loudly against the stone wall. The spirit marched in, closely followed by the Grey Wardens and a number of villagers. Lhiannon looked up at the main doors of the manor as they opened. An attractive woman of middle age walked forward, her elaborate dress swishing gently across her figure. The bright light of the Fade made the tiara on her head gleam brightly, contrasting her dark hair. As she approached, Lhiannon saw she was flanked by two demons, writhing masses of corruption waiting for her command.

"All this shouting! And now you decide to barge in without a proper invitation. How very rude. I should think my subjects would have better manners," the Baroness said, her Orlesian accent clear in Lhiannon's ears.

"I demand that you release these villagers and submit yourself to justice!" the spirit shouted indignantly. The Baroness scoffed at him. "Justice? Is that what you call this? And what of justice for _them_? What is _their_ punishment for burning my house to the ground with me still inside?"

"You were stealing our children!" a villager shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the Baroness. "You used their blood to feed your vanity!"

The Baroness's face twisted into a scowl of rage. She pointed back at the villager. "It was _my right_! You lived on _my_ land! Their blood belonged to me, just as your lives belong to me! _You are my property!_"

Lhiannon pushed herself through the villagers, her Wardens a step behind her. She stood next to the spirit, pointing Spellweaver at the Baroness. "Their lives are no longer yours!"

The Baroness turned to regard Lhiannon, her eyes looking her over in amusement. "I see. These fools have managed to recruit more sympathizers to their fruitless cause. Step aside, stranger, or you shall share their fate."

"The villagers are no longer alone, witch," the spirit snarled at the Baroness. "Your reign of terror ends here."

The Baroness scoffed, giving the spirit a malevolent grin. "I am not alone either," she said, looking off to her right at the approaching form of The First.

The First looked at the spirit and the Grey Wardens. "The path across the Veil for this one lies in victory over the Grey Wardens and their new allies. Then this one will see The Mother pay for her treachery."

Sigrun glared up at the Baroness, her tattooed face snarling in rage. She pointed at The First. "You should choose your pets more carefully, you stupid nug snuggler!"

"Oh, and should I have chosen you mortals instead?" the Baroness sneered.

The First turned toward the Baroness and began to beseech her. "They must be ending the Grey Wardens! That is more dangerous that you know!"

The Baroness turned toward The First, seemingly bored with the whole exchange. She waved an impatient hand at him. "Oh, very well. Do what you wish, creature. Slay them and you shall have the reward you requested."

The spirit pulled his weapon, pointing it at The First. "The battle is joined!" he cried as The First came charging down from the manor, swinging its two-handed axe wildly at the villagers who tried to mob it. It cleaved its way through them with little effort before turning its attention to the Grey Wardens. It raced toward Lhiannon, bellowing in rage at it swung its axe at her. She scampered out of the way at the last second, bringing Spellweaver around and landing a heavy blow on the creature's back. It howled with rage as it turned toward her, bringing the axe above its head for another blow. As Lhiannon watched, an arrow suddenly appeared under the creature's arm, Nathaniel shouting in triumph as he let loose a second arrow. It also found purchase in the side of The First. Lhiannon saw Sigrun trying to flank the creature and bellowed at it to keep its attention on her.

"The Mother sent you to fight her battles?" Lhiannon taunted, grinning malevolently at The First as Sigrun continued her silent flanking maneuver. "You're just as weak as the other _countless_ darkspawn I've killed in the past year!"

The First hissed and growled at her despite staggering from the arrows in its side. It brought the axe to bear once more. "This one will see you dead. This one will please my brethren by bringing them your head." As he moved to swing the axe at Lhiannon, Sigrun leaped toward the creature, burying both of her daggers to the hilt in The First's back. It roared in anguish and tried to fling the dwarf off its back, dropping the axe and reaching back to try and pull the daggers out of its flesh.

Lhiannon brought Spellweaver to bear. "Now, Sigrun!" she shouted at the dwarf. Sigrun pulled her blades from The First's back and leaped away as Lhiannon shoved Spellweaver into the creature's chest, screaming at the effort. The First began to stagger as Lhiannon pulled Spellweaver from its chest, ichor dripping from the blade to splatter on the ground. The First fell to one knee as Lhiannon stood before it, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Lhiannon turned as she heard the Baroness scream in rage. She pointed at The First. "You are a fool! Why haven't you defeated these pathetic creatures?"

The First was still on one knee, looking up at the Baroness in supplication. "They are too much for this one. Send this one through the Veil before it is too late."

The Baroness sneered at The First. "Oh, I'll sunder the Veil all right. I'll send them back. But it will be _your_ life that provides the power to sunder it!" The First screamed in agony as the Baroness wove the spell, pulling the remaining life force from The First in a red haze, using it to shatter the Veil. Lhiannon saw the air begin to shimmer around them once more before she fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Remember, Loghain doesn't know that Lhiannon conscripted Jowan just yet; he still thinks Eamon had him hanged. Of course, there are a great many things about Redcliffe our taciturn friend doesn't know. ;)_

_Special thanks to my reviewers Shakespira, Aura of Darkness Night, Enaid Aderyn, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Nithu, and Gene Dark (who sent me a review in a PM). Thank you all so much!  
_

_And then there's icey, who was an absolute reading and reviewing MACHINE on Sunday. I turned my back on the inbox to take to the ice (no pun intended) with one review in my box; low and behold when I got off the ice 90 minutes later (another pun NOT intended), there were EIGHT MORE. Before I even left the arena parking lot there were MORE! Your reviews must have been good luck; I scored an AWESOME goal. ;) That you took, what, three hours out of your day for my tale is much appreciated! Thank you so much!  
_

_I'm toying with the idea of a second one-shot taking place in Loghain's head on his trip back to Vigil's Keep. He's got a lot to ponder on that ride back. I'll try to have it posted in the next few days._

_Thank you as well to all you readers and lurkers, and those who favorite and bookmark the story. I love getting those little alerts. Please keep them coming! :)  
_


	39. Moments of Melancholy

Lhiannon flinched as she felt the raindrops hitting her skin. It was raining heavily as she opened her eyes, the sky dark and low clouds racing by. She groaned as she stood; her armor would need to be thoroughly dried and polished when she returned to Vigil's Keep; she did not want the rust to even think about settling in on it.

Lightning streaked across the sky, chased not long after by the rumble of thunder. As she looked about, she realized that they were no longer in the Fade, but back in the mortal realm. Anders, Nathaniel, and Sigrun were beginning to stir beside her. They were back at the spot where The First had sundered the Veil and sent them into the Fade. Kristoff's body lay on the ground before them, undisturbed.

"Are we back? We're not dreaming again?" Sigrun asked, warily looking around and shivering involuntarily.

"We're back and right as rain," Anders told her, watching the drops fall around them. "Though I'll never get the muck out of my robes. And now it's raining; I'll catch a cold for sure."

"Something still doesn't feel right about this place though," Nathaniel said, casting his eyes about.

Lhiannon nodded. "I agree. There's still magic at…" She froze as she saw the body of Kristoff begin to move. She spread her arms out to her sides, pushing her companions behind her as the body began to stand.

"Andraste's flaming arse, what the hell is happening?" Lhiannon gasped, watching in horror as Kristoff's body finally stood on its feet and turned to regard her. The eyes had an unsettling milky quality and she could see the prominent cheekbones through the graying skin. Its movements were jerky and halting as if unfamiliar with the process.

Kristoff's body shook its head, bringing his hands to the sides of his head as if it were about to explode. "What is this? Where am I? What is happening?" Lhiannon gasped at the raspy quality of the voice; it spoke with the same timbre as the spirit of justice they encountered in the Fade. The other Grey Wardens looked at the reanimated corpse, stunned and speechless.

Kristoff's body groaned in dismay, running its hands over its head and face. "Oh no. This is the mortal world…beyond the Veil. I am trapped in a body of flesh…"

Lhiannon finally found her voice through her horror. "How did you get through the Veil?"

The body turned and snarled at her in frustration. "The witch sundered the Veil in haste, drawing everyone through. She is here too, in this realm. Can you not feel her nearby?"

"But we've already defeated her once," Sigrun said, her face grimacing as she looked at the decaying body.

"You misunderstand, mortal. She is here, but she is no longer mortal. Nor are the villagers she kept trapped in the Fade. She was mortal once, but now she is a demon of Pride, assuming that role long ago to feed off of the mortals she trapped in her realm." Kristoff turned to regard each of the Grey Wardens in turn. "Know this: in this world, she will be something quite different and infinitely more dangerous than what you observed in the Fade."

"What do you propose then?" Lhiannon asked warily, finding herself distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of a talking corpse.

"We must close the tears in the Veil that the Baroness wrought, lest demons continue to spill into this realm unhindered. I can alter your weapons to combat the Fade's magic, but we must hurry. The Baroness must be dealt with before her poison can spread." The spirit waved his hands and a subtle glow settled upon their weapons. They began to make their way toward the ruined manor, closing Fade portals and battling demons along the way.

As they entered the gates of the manor, the empress was waiting for them, looking about the area with both curiosity and disdain. "So, this is the mortal world? How very dull. So absolute and unchanging." She turned to regard the Grey Wardens and the spirit of justice. "Nonetheless, I am here, having crossed the Veil. The spirits there will watch with great envy as the mortals of this realm bow down before me in servitude."

Kristoff's body stepped forward. "It will not happen, demon!" it roared at her.

The Baroness chuckled, clapping her hands in front of here. "Well, it seems I was not the only one drawn here. How interesting, yet very tiresome."

Lhiannon stepped forward, Spellweaver brandished in front of her. "We've defeated you once, demon. A second time will hardly be a problem."

The Baroness raised a brow at her and scoffed. "Really? Is that so? We shall see, won't we?" They watched in horror as the Baroness began to writhe before them, seemingly in great pain. Her eyes began to glow with a sickly green color as she writhed. The Grey Wardens took a wary step backwards, watching as the sickly green light enveloped the Baroness with a bright flash.

When the light faded, they stood face to face with the pride demon. It loomed large over them, its dark skin covered with bony plates. Its glowing red eyes glared at all of them before roaring in rage and charging toward them.

"Holy Maker, spread out. Don't stand together!" Lhiannon barked, moving to try and flank the pride demon. It roared at them, rushing at Kristoff's body with an unnerving speed. Nathaniel was off the to the side, shooting arrows as fast as he could, trying to find weak spots between the bony plates. Sigrun was trying to flank the beast, looking for a place to sink her daggers. Anders was hurriedly readying a healing spell and preparing to send it out.

Lhiannon approached the side of the demon as the spirit of justice engaged it directly. She sank Spellweaver into the demon's hide, thankful that the enchantments allowed the blade to pierce its bony armor with little difficulty. The demon roared, looking down at Lhiannon and waving its hand toward her. Suddenly, Lhiannon felt as if the very air were closing in around her, immobilizing her in place and crushing her body despite her heavy armor. She tried to scream but found that even her voice was paralyzed. She then felt the heat of flames as the demon cast a fire spell, taking advantage of her paralysis. The burning and crushing sensations nearly drove Lhiannon to the brink of madness. She was helpless, watching the flames dance around her and the heat sear her flesh. A moment later, she felt the cooling tickle of healing magic; Anders had seen her plight and began to heal her, trying to keep her strength high until the spells faded. After what seemed like an eternity, Lhiannon felt her limbs begin to move on their own again. She was weak, however, and collapsed to the ground, her breath coming in great gasps.

Anders ran forward and dragged her a short distance away, shouting the words to a healing spell as he did to. "Come on, Lhi. You have to get on your feet!" Taking a deep breath, Lhiannon felt more steady and stood with Anders' assistance. She shrugged him off and ran for the desire demon, which was now mauling the spirit of justice handily. The demon had opened a portal to the Fade and a number of shades began to pour out. Anders quickly turned and cast spells at the portal, attempting to force it closed. Sigrun saw his plight and ran over, her daggers flashing as she tore apart the shades. After another minute of casting, Anders was able to seal the breach in the Veil.

Lhiannon saw the arrows poking out of the demon's hide and the ichor that poured onto the ground from wounds both the spirit and Sigrun inflicted. Lhiannon buried her sword into the demon again, chanting a lightning spell as she did so, directing it to Spellweaver. The lightning hit the enchanted sword and traveled into the demon's body, causing it to roar in pain and outrage and opening a large wound around Spellweaver. The sword fell out of the demon's hide and Lhiannon sprang forward to grab it. As she did so, the demon kicked out with its massive leg, throwing Lhiannon against a stone wall. She heard the snapping of bone as her arm broke, feeling the jagged edge of the bone sticking out through the skin and rubbing against the metal plate covering it. Her stomach began to roll with nausea and a cold sweat broke out across her body. She ignored the pain and called forth more lightning, hitting the demon on its back. She felt herself sliding to the ground, watching as the spirit of justice roared in triumph, burying his sword into the heart of the demon. It roared one final time before staggering and falling over dead.

Through the dizziness in her head, Lhiannon gently peeled off the armor covering her broken arm and cast a healing spell on it, watching with fascination as the bone moved back into place and began to heal. She held the spell for as long as she could before exhaustion made the spell fizzle out. She was still burned and sore all over, but felt slightly better. She got up on unsteady feet and limped over to where Anders was tending to Nathaniel and Sigrun.

"It is done," the spirit said, coming to stand before Lhiannon. "Thank you for helping me fulfill my vow. I hope the villagers can rest easily now, wherever they are."

"So, what now?" Sigrun asked, looking up at the decaying body with a small amount of revulsion.

"I cannot return to the Fade on my own. I am trapped in this mortal body." The corpse paused, its eyes looking up and a curious look on its sickly face. "There are memories in this body. They are difficult to see…this mortal was…a Grey Warden?" He looked around as if confused and not entirely sure of himself. "He was…killed? Killed by a darkspawn? The First, he called it."

Lhiannon nodded, fighting her revulsion as best she could. As a mage, she had a healthy respect for and fear of entities that existed in the Fade. Even this spirit, who appeared to be one of the benevolent types that rarely interacted with mortals, sent chills down her spine.

"The darkspawn are the creatures the Grey Wardens fight," Lhiannon explained. "Grey Wardens seek to protect the surface world from their invasions. They heed the call of the Old Gods. When they find one, their taint turns it into an archdemon, which leads the darkspawn horde to the surface in what is called a Blight. It is our duty to fight these creatures and protect the people of Thedas."

The corpse nodded in understanding. "I see now. So, your pursuit of these darkspawn creatures is how you were tricked into the portal."

Lhiannon nodded. "That is correct."

Sigrun stepped forward, both fascinated and repulsed by the reanimated corpse. "So, what do we call you? Kristoff?"

The corpse looked down at her, a curious expression on his face. "I don't have a name. I only have a principle that I aspire to. Justice. If you were to call me anything, call me Justice."

Justice looked at the landscape around him, a look of awe on his gray, mottled face. The rain falling from the sky and the breeze that blew across his skin fascinated him. His body suddenly shivered and he watched the tiny bumps of gooseflesh break out on his skin. The air had an odor to it that he could not place; judging by the looks on the Grey Wardens' faces, it appeared to be foul. He sighed heavily.

Lhiannon gently pulled Anders to the side as Justice observed his new body and surroundings. "Anders, I am not ashamed to admit that I do not like the idea of a corpse being possessed by a Fade spirit. It isn't right. We should be taking Kristoff's body back to Aura for a proper funeral."

Anders looked down at Lhiannon, a slight grimace crossing his face. He sighed and groaned at her. "Oh, Andraste's knickerweasels, I hate the Fade."

Lhiannon looked at him, completely confused. "What?"

Anders sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes at her. "I am going to completely regret this, Lhi, and if you speak to anyone of what I tell you, I'll think of something suitably horrible to punish you with."

"All right, Anders, I promise. What has your knickers in a knot?"

"Ever wonder why my healing spells are so potent?"

Lhiannon shrugged. "I just thought that was where your natural talents lie."

"It is," Anders agreed, nodding at her. "But there's more to it. I'm actually a Spirit Healer."

"A Spirit Healer? You never told me that." Lhiannon said, surprised at her friend's admission.

"Why do you think the templars were sent to capture me seven times?" he said with a lopsided grin on his face. "I know I should have told you before and I'm sorry I didn't. Spirit Healers are highly desired in the Circle. If I were a mage that specialized in, oh, say primal spells, they would have killed me after the third or fourth escape attempt."

"Now it makes sense, why the templars chased you so much." Lhiannon then rolled her eyes at Anders. "Us primal mages aren't as important as you special mages; we're expendable."

"There's more, Lhiannon." Anders stopped, a grimace crossing his face and he groaned. "After my fourth escape from the Circle, Rylock was sent to capture me…again. She had to smite me to catch me. As I lay on the ground, stunned, she stabbed me in the side with her sword just because I made her chase me halfway across Ferelden." Anders paused, grinning and winking at Lhiannon. "I think she was coming on to me."

Lhiannon rolled her eyes at him. "Oh yes, nothing says 'I'm interested' like a sword to the side."

"Well, as I lay there trying to call upon my mana, I heard something speaking to me. It was a Fade spirit, but not a demon. It was a spirit of valor; it had been watching me for some time and thought me fascinating because I never gave up trying to escape the Circle to be free.

"What I'm saying, Lhiannon, is that I can summon it through the Veil. That's how I was able to keep you alive in Denerim and how I kept Loghain alive at the farm."

"So, if you can summon the spirit through the Veil into our realm…" Lhiannon began, looking at Anders hopefully.

"I should be able to ask the spirit to help Justice back." Anders said, nodding emphatically. "In theory, of course. It should be easier here with the Veil so thin. But we'll have to move quickly; once the Veil opens, we need to send Justice through before any demons wise up to what we're doing. I really wasn't planning on becoming an abomination today."

"I must return to the Fade somehow."

Lhiannon and Anders looked toward Justice. He was staring off into the distance, a melancholy look on his face. "I cannot remain here in the mortal realm."

Lhiannon turned to look at Anders. "It's all yours."

"What?" Anders snorted at her.

"You're the expert on bringing a spirit through the Veil; you should explain it to him," Lhiannon told him, shrugging her shoulders and grinning at him.

Anders glared at Lhiannon before turning toward Justice. "Um, I think I may have a way to help, Justice."

Justice turned to regard Anders, a curious expression on his face. "Explain."

"Well, I can briefly sunder the Veil to call upon a spirit of valor if I need help." Anders held up his hands in supplication. "Now I might be able to call upon this spirit to guide you back through the Veil and into the Fade. Maybe."

"Is this true?" Justice said, turning to face Lhiannon. "You are the leader of this group. Is what he says true?"

Lhiannon pursed her lips in thought, then shrugged. "I have faith in Anders' abilities. I can't sunder the Veil myself, but I have heard of some mages being able to do so. It's up to you though, Justice. If it is something you wish to attempt, we can try it."

Justice nodded emphatically. "Yes, I do wish it."

Anders sighed, turning toward Lhiannon. "All right. Justice, come close to me. The Veil will open right next to me." He pointed to a spot on his right before he turned to look at Justice quizzically, trying to keep a grimace from his face at the odor wafting from him. "How large of an opening do you need?"

"I only need an opening. I have no corporeal essence, so a large opening is not needed."

Anders nodded, turning toward his fellow Grey Wardens. "I want you three to stand near me. The opening will be on my right. If something attempts to come through, you need to be ready." Anders paused, looking at Lhiannon gravely. "If something tries to possess me, kill me, Lhi. I mean it."

Lhiannon nodded solemnly. Anders took a deep breath and began to cast, his movements smooth and sinuous. He chanted the words quietly as he moved and after a moment, a small white shimmer appeared in the air next to him. As it began to coalesce and take on a more definite form, Justice turned to Lhiannon and the other Grey Wardens, a look of great hope on his face.

"I can feel the spirit of valor on the other side of the Veil. It is calling to me. I must go." He took one last look around. "I can now see the beauty of the mortal world. I shall always remember it fondly, and will remember those who helped me find my way back to my own realm. Thank you, Grey Wardens, and farewell."

Lhiannon saw a white mist come out of Kristoff's body and move through the opening in the Veil next to Anders. As they watched him move through the opening, Kristoff's body slowly slumped to the ground and was still.

* * *

The Grey Wardens wrapped Kristoff's body in the fabric of Lhiannon's tent; she and Sigrun would have to share a tent for the evening. They had made camp just beyond where the marsh ended, near where they had tethered the horses. After a few hours of rest and healing, they began the journey toward Vigil's Keep. It was a slower trip home as the heavy rains had made the road little more than a mud hole, but by late in the afternoon, the spires of Vigil's Keep came into view. Lhiannon hoped that Loghain had returned while they were fighting the demon in the Blackmarsh; she was most anxious to see him again. It seemed like an eternity since they last saw each other.

When they arrived at the gates of Vigil's Keep, Lhiannon asked two of the soldiers to take Kristoff's body to the solemn area of the compound where funerals were held. There Kristoff's body would rest on the pyre until the funeral flames took his body to the Maker.

Varel met Lhiannon and the others as they entered the Vigil. She gave Varel a quick briefing on the demon in the Blackmarsh and that they were successful in finding Kristoff's body.

"Where is Aura, Varel?" Lhiannon asked solemnly. She was not looking forward to delivering this sad news.

"She is in the main hall, Commander. She has been trying to read a number of books while she awaited your return." Varel sighed sadly. "She's been lost here," he quietly added. Lhiannon nodded, placing a hand on Varel's shoulder before leaving to find Aura.

Lhiannon found Aura in the main hall as Varel said. She was sitting on a chair next to one of the large bookcases, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of a book in her lap. She looked up when she heard Lhiannon's armored footsteps approaching. Aura quickly stood, walking quickly towards Lhiannon and meeting her halfway through the hall.

"Commander, have you found Kristoff? Is he all right?"

Lhiannon pulled her gauntlets off, setting them on a table nearby. "Aura, I'm so sorry…" She watched helplessly as Aura's face began to crumple, a single sob escaping her lips as she brought her hands up to cover her face. Lhiannon reached out and held Aura's shoulders. Aura suddenly embraced Lhiannon, unmindful of the heavy armor she wore. Lhiannon held Aura for several moments as she sobbed in her grief. When she began to quiet, Lhiannon stepped back and grabbed Aura's hands, holding them in her own.

"We brought his body back, Aura. We can have his funeral whenever you wish."

Aura sniffled, looking at Lhiannon with reddened eyes. "I'd like one of the priests from the Chantry of Our Lady Redeemer to preside."

Lhiannon nodded. "I'll have Varel send a messenger there right away. Once the priest arrives, we can have the funeral. The day after tomorrow, yes?"

Aura nodded. "That will be fine, Commander."

"Aura, you have a place here with us, if you wish it, for as long as you like."

"I appreciate it, Commander. Perhaps I will stay here at Vigil's Keep for a while. I have nowhere else to go; my place was with Kristoff," Aura sighed. "Can I see him?"

Lhiannon took a deep breath before answering. "I don't know if you want to, Aura."

Aura shook her head. "I don't care, Commander. I wish to see him."

Nodding solemnly, Lhiannon lead Aura to the pyre and waited as she looked at Kristoff's body for several long moments, weeping quietly. Lhiannon found herself weeping with Aura, mourning the death of a Grey Warden she never knew, but nonetheless felt kinship with. When Aura finished, they walked back to the Vigil arm in arm. Aura went to her quarters to try and rest. Lhiannon walked through the Vigil to Loghain's office, hoping to find him there at his desk, no doubt scowling at the paperwork that he had to do in Lhiannon's absence.

When she reached his office, she tried the door and found it locked. She knocked, hoping that he had just locked it for privacy, but after several moments she realized that he was not there. She cast her senses out, hoping to sense him nearby. There was nothing. Her melancholy mood began to intensify as she sought Varel out, hoping he had some news from Loghain.

"I'm sorry, Commander, but I have had no word from Warden Loghain since he left for Gwaren. He was hoping to be back in a few days if all went well. That was his original timeline; I'm sure that he would have sent a message if he were delayed further."

Lhiannon nodded, thanking Varel for his information. She walked through the Vigil to her quarters, scowling at the thought of more paperwork that would need to be done in the morning. As it was moving toward early evening, she found that she did not have the motivation to do any sort of work. All she wanted was a hot meal, a hot bath, and perhaps a tankard of ale to drown her melancholy mood. Or perhaps several tankards of ale and a bottle of West Hill brandy. The lingering aches and pains from her injuries sustained in the Blackmarsh did little to help her mood.

However, before she could satisfy her wish to be alone and perhaps in a drunken stupor, she knew she should greet those Wardens she left behind. She found Velanna in her quarters, a book in her lap. As Lhiannon knocked on the doorjamb, Velanna closed the book and set it aside, standing to greet her.

"Commander," Velanna said, her voice as terse as ever as she rose from her chair.

"Hello, Velanna. I just returned from the Blackmarsh and wanted to see how your magical training with Jowan was progressing."

Velanna began to pace the room; a practice not uncommon for her. "He is a capable student…and teacher."

"Teacher?" Lhiannon asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Velanna warily. She did not like what Velanna was implying; there was really only one thing Jowan could share with Velanna.

A look of mild defiance crossed Velanna's face as she saw the Commander's withering look. "I asked him to share some of his knowledge of blood magic with me in exchange for my knowledge of spells as a Keeper."

Lhiannon's face darkened at the revelation. She did not want her order of Grey Wardens to be seen as accepting only blood mages or as a haven for them. Before she could respond, Velanna held up her hand. "I know, Commander, that you only want blood magic to be used in the most dire of circumstances. But believe it or not, blood magic is a perfect compliment to my own skills. Keeper Zathrian was a blood mage as well."

"Yes, he was; and look what became of him. I would not see the same thing happen to you, Velanna."

A long moment of silence passed between them, Velanna almost daring Lhiannon to challenge her reasoning. Lhiannon considered Velanna's words and found herself wishing she could tear the knowledge out of her skull; little good could happen from the prickly elf having such knowledge. Unfortunately, no such magic existed that Lhiannon was aware of that could erase the knowledge. She would be lying if she said the thought of killing Velanna never crossed her mind; a facetious thought, but tempting nonetheless. She sighed, nodding once at Velanna. "I am not at all happy with this development, and it seems I have little choice but trust in your wisdom not only as a mage, but as a Keeper. The same stipulation applies to you as well as Jowan; only use blood magic when there is no alternative. I don't want the Grey Wardens to be seen as a refuge for unsavory blood mages, especially by the Chantry. Do not defy me in this, Velanna; the punishment will be swift." Lhiannon turned on her heel and left, seeking out Jowan to hear his part in Velanna's tale. It seemed that this day would only be filled with disappointments.

After several minutes of searching, Lhiannon found Jowan down in the training area, working with Sergeant Maverlies on how to use his staff to protect himself in close combat. Maverlies was using a blunted sword to show Jowan how to defend against various attacks from above, the side, and below. Jowan was proving to be a quick study, deftly deflecting many of the blows Maverlies sent his way. Lhiannon watched for several more minutes before entering the room.

"You're doing well, Jowan," Lhiannon said evenly, watching as both turned to regard her.

"Yes, Sergeant Maverlies was kind enough to help me. I want to learn how to protect myself," Jowan said, a grin crossing his face. "Seems to have worked well for you, Lhi."

Maverlies returned her blunted sword to the rack nearby. "Jowan, I shall see you later." She turned toward Lhiannon, saluting before the walked toward the door. "Commander."

Lhiannon held up her hand to Maverlies. "Sergeant, hold a moment."

Maverlies turned to regard Lhiannon, a questioning look on her face. "Something I can do for you, Commander?"

"You've done well training the troops here at Vigil's Keep. I would like you to consider taking the Joining and becoming a Grey Warden."

A look of shock crossed Maverlies face, as if she were completely surprised by Lhiannon's request. "I am honored that you deem me worthy, Commander."

Lhiannon nodded to her. "You need not decide now, Sergeant. Give it some thought. I would be happy to have your blade as a Grey Warden."

"Yes, Commander," Maverlies nodded. "I shall consider your request," she said, turning and leaving Jowan alone with Lhiannon in the training room. Lhiannon turned to Jowan, her eyes narrowing and expression wary.

"You taught Velanna blood magic?" she asked, her voice low and betraying the disappointment she felt.

Jowan lowered his gaze, a regretful expression on his face. "I know it wasn't something you wished, Lhiannon, but she was insistent. Her argument was sound."

Lhiannon scoffed in exasperation at Jowan. "So you went ahead and did it anyway, not even waiting for me to return so I could _at least _have been consulted first! I don't need our Order to be seen as a haven for blood mages, Jowan. You, of all people, know what the Chantry is like about such things." She sighed, shaking her head at him. "Did she at least teach you anything?"

With a nod, Jowan spoke. "Yes. She taught me to create a defense shield from the earth and how to use roots against my enemies."

"Jowan, just promise me you won't use blood magic unless you have no other choice?"

He nodded emphatically at Lhiannon. "You have my word, Commander." She hoped she could believe him.

* * *

The dining hall was quiet for the moment, as dinner was not scheduled to be ready for another hour or so. Lhiannon poked her head into the kitchen area, checking to see what the servants had on hand that she could take up to her chambers. As they searched, she looked to the corner of the room and saw Oghren sitting at a table with his head down and snoring lustily. His hand was loosely wrapped around a tankard of what could only be dwarven ale. Lhiannon sighed; she was going to have to do something about Oghren's drinking before he became a danger to not just himself but everyone else. One of the servants called Lhiannon over to the kitchen door a moment later; they found her some fresh bread and stew from the noontime meal that day. They also had a bottle of West Hill brandy hidden away there, which they gave her without complaint. She took her bounty to her outer chambers, bolting the door behind her and moving through the door to her private chambers.

It was not long before a fire was stoked, her bath taken, hair braided, and her meal eaten. She sat on the lounge in her living chambers, dressed in a long nightdress and sipping on the West Hill brandy as she stared into the fire. Part of her had been angry at Loghain for leaving to tend to matters in Gwaren. Cauthrien, however, was a shrewd woman; she would not have recalled him without good reason. The rational part of her mind understood this, but the feeling part of her had been hurt. She had depended on Loghain to keep affairs in order at the Vigil, not to go running off to Gwaren on Maker knows what quest. She sat on the lounge, watching the flames dance in the fireplace and continuing to sip on her brandy until she felt a pleasant heat spread throughout her body and a slight buzzing in her head. Her eyes began to feel heavy and before long, she found herself reclining on the lounge, curling herself up into a ball and letting the fatigue and glumness carry her into unconsciousness.

She was startled out of her sleep some time later. Her sleeping mind had awakened for something, but she was not sure what. Then she realized what it was: knocking. Someone was knocking at her door. Looking at the fire, which had burned low, she realized that she had been asleep for several hours. It was completely dark outside, a half moon rising in the distance.

"Who in the Maker's name is knocking at this time of night?" Lhiannon rose from the lounge, shuffling toward the door and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, touching several wall sconces with a whispered spell as she passed to light the darkened rooms. "This had better be serious," she called out, her voice betraying her irritation. As she reached the door, the knocking began again. She growled in exasperation.

"Andraste's knickerweasels! I'm right here, Maker damn you..." She reached the door and ran the bolt back, prepared to admonish whomever it was knocking her door in the middle of the night, disturbing both her brooding and her sleep.

Her admonishment died on her lips.

* * *

_As much as I didn't mind Justice in Awakening, I think Lhiannon may have a different feeling about it. Since she's a mage, she's had the fear of demons and abominations drilled into her for years. Sure, Justice isn't a demon, but he's a spirit from the Fade and she has a healthy respect for and fear of those entities. Having a reanimated corpse traipsing about is just a little much for her; it's a little too "Dawn of the Dead" for her liking. Besides, Justice wanted to get back to the Fade anyway. Since Anders is a Spirit Healer, he's the perfect conduit to send Justice on his way. That's my story anyway, and I'm sticking to it!_

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers Shakespira, Aura of Darkness Night, icey cold, TG2000 (don't claw your screen to pieces!), Arsinoe de Blassenville, and Enaid Aderyn. I love seeing the little alerts with your names on it...makes me smile every time.  
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_If you haven't checked out my latest one-shot "The Right Words", you may want to. It is a companion piece to Chapter 38. Thanks to the aforementioned reviewers who chimed in on that one-shot, as well as Gene Dark who also chimed in.  
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_Thanks to all you readers and lurkers, and those who have bookmarked and made the story a favorite. I really appreciate it.  
_


	40. All For This Moment

"I can leave, if you like."

Lhiannon smiled, her heart beginning to race in her chest as she moved from the doorway to let Loghain into her chambers. He was still in his riding leathers, telling her he had literally just arrived. His face was flushed, betraying the haste in which he had brought himself to Vigil's Keep and her chambers. "Absolutely not," she said, closing and bolting the door behind him as he entered. He turned to face her as she ran the door's bolt, unsure of what her reaction would be to his having left for Gwaren. Would she understand his reasoning, or be disappointed and angry, thinking he shirked his duty? She turned to face him and simply stood there, looking at him both warily and expectantly, studying him carefully. She could feel his emotions seemingly on some sort of edge through their shared taint.

"Lhiannon, I should explain..."

She glided forward and hushed him with gentle fingers to his lips, giving him a small smile as she slowly shook her head. "I don't want to talk about that now," she said softly, brushing his lightly stubbled face with her fingers. "I only want to hear you say it. It's been so long."

He pulled her into his arms, his eyes boring into her soul once more. "Lhiannon, I love you."

She caressed his face with her fingers, as if making sure he was really there and not part of a brandy and exhaustion fueled dream. Her hands rested on either side of his face, her thumbs stroking the rough stubble on his cheeks. His eyes closed as she stroked his skin, the satiny softness of her hands fanning the flames of his passion. He could feel his control beginning to teeter precariously, almost dangerously. Lhiannon found that the more she caressed his face, the more real he became. "And I love you, Loghain." She gazed at him, continuing to convince herself that he was indeed real and not part of a dream sent from the Fade. "I have missed you," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. She gently tucked a braid behind his ear, her touch whisper light against his flushed skin.

"And I, you," Loghain said as brought his face to hers, kissing her softly at first, then with a growing urgency. He suckled on her skin as his lips began to wander down to the hollow of her neck. She shuddered under his touch and a low moan of desire escaped her lips. Too long had it been since he had touched her, too long to have been deprived of his very presence. She began to scrabble with his leathers as he suckled the skin at the hollow of her neck, sending shivers through her. "You are terribly overdressed," Lhiannon breathed, her voice becoming husky. Loghain's lips brushed across her skin as he rose to meet her gaze. "Then we should remedy that," he said, his own voice low with desire as his lips kissed the scar near her eye. With both of them working, his leathers began to haphazardly fall to the floor. As soon as the last piece landed, he pulled her into an embrace so tight it took her breath away. He pulled the tie that held her hair in its braid, letting the cord fall to the floor to be forgotten. He ran his fingers through her hair, loosening her braid and pulling her head back to expose the skin of her neck once again, his lips and teeth brushing her skin. His touch was feather light, driving Lhiannon's desire ever higher. She wanted his naked skin against hers, his hands all over body, and his length inside her, filling her body as his love filled her soul.

"You called me 'Lhi'," she panted, the raging desire in her voice stoking the fire burning within Loghain. Her hands ran up under his longshirt, moving across the bare skin of his back, lightly scratching his flesh with her nails as he continued to softly suckle her flesh. He moved up her neck, his lips loathe to part with her delicious skin, the taste of her causing his control to slip again. His mouth finally reached the curve of her jaw, her hands desperately clinging to him as if she were about to fall into a yawning abyss. "So I did," he breathed, sealing his lips to hers before she could speak again. His tongue sought hers, brushing her lips and teeth as he continued to gently probe her mouth, swallowing her light moans.

Lhiannon began to scrabble at the hem of his longshirt, seeking to pull it over his head so she could feel more of his bare skin, more of the heat coming off his body as further proof that he was really there. Loghain broke the kiss and took a small step back, gently grasping her hand in his; she noticed that his hand was shaking slightly. She also took a small step back, glancing at him warily. Loghain's hands _never_ trembled; she found the hair beginning to stand on the back of her neck as she felt a strange tremor through the taint.

"Loghain, what's wrong?" she asked warily, her brow beginning to furrow as she started to worry that something was amiss. She watched guardedly as he reached into a pocket of his trousers and slowly brought a small item out. He held it up to her and in the dancing firelight, she saw that the object he held was a ring. She took a deep breath and froze, her eyes going wide as they moved from the ring to Loghain's face. Her eyes widened even more when she took in Loghain's expression, finally understanding the reason his hands were trembling and why the taint felt so strange: he was nervous.

"I have been trying to think of the right words to say," Loghain said, looking at the ring and then to Lhiannon's eyes. "I find myself lacking them." He took her left hand, pulling her closer to him and gazing down into her eyes, which he saw began to fill with tears as it dawned on her just what was happening. Her body trembled and she took a single, hitching breath. "So, I shall say only this: Lhiannon, I love you, more than I ever believed possible. What time the Maker has left for me, I would spend with you." He moved the ring onto her finger, gently guiding it over her skin. She gave a hitching breath and a small sigh as it slipped into place, its warmth resting on her finger as the blue hue of the metal swirled and danced in the light. She looked back up at him and saw his eyes shining in the firelight.

"There is nothing I want more than you as my wife. Lhiannon…"

Before he could continue, she quickly reached her free hand up and buried it in the long hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his face to hers and kissing him, her lips moving softly against his. After a brief moment, she pulled away, her hand running from the back of his neck to his face, caressing his cheek. She gave him a bright smile as a tear finally spilled out of her eye and down her cheek. As a mage, marriage was always strongly discouraged by the Chantry, many elements within the priesthood believing mages were below such a blessed event. Lhiannon had believed for a long time that marriage was out of her reach simply because she _was_ a mage. But Loghain did not see her that way any longer; she was a woman first and foremost, a formidable Grey Warden and Arlessa after that. Mage was the last thing he thought of her as, almost an afterthought. Lhiannon realized that she had been wrong; marriage _was_ in her reach, Chantry be damned. She was never more satisfied to be wrong. Her heart felt as if it would burst, her joy was so great.

"Yes."

Loghain suddenly crushed her in an embrace that lifted her off the floor. She heard a slight sigh from him as he buried his head between her neck and shoulder, her feet dangling off the ground as he clutched her to him. After a moment, he set her gently back on her feet. She looked up at him and saw a single tear at the corner of his eye, threatening to roll down his cheek. With a gentle thumb, she brushed it away before turning her attention to the ring on her finger.

The ring was silverite with a blue hue that seemed to dance across the surface of its own accord. The blue of the ring instantly reminded her of the blue in Loghain's eyes. She saw delicate etchings on it, designs that she recognized as ancient Tevinter on either side of center on the band; he had the ring enchanted. In the center were initials; two L's intertwined in flowing script. She smiled as she saw it.

"There's an inscription inside," Loghain said, his voice slightly husky as he watched her gaze at the ring, a look of wonder playing across her features and her joy surging between them. He reached for her hand, gently guiding the ring off and holding it up to her so she could see.

_My heart shall always be yours. – L_

Lhiannon smiled, feeling the tears falling down her cheeks again, knowing that it would be useless to try and stop them. "As mine will always be yours." He slipped the ring back onto her finger, settling it in its rightful place. He pulled her closer, gently brushing her tears away before lowering his face to hers and kissing her softly. What began slowly and softly quickly turned more passionate, mouths open as tongues danced around each other. Lhiannon reached for the edge of Loghain's longshirt again, pulling it up and over his head to fall to the floor carelessly. She ran her hands over the muscles of his chest, stroking the skin as she ran her lips and tongue over his nipples, eliciting a sharp intake of breath and a growl of desire from Loghain. With any semblance of control skittering away, he pulled her nightdress up and over her body, revealing the healing burns and the large scar on her arm from the battle with the Baroness. He paused, looking at Lhiannon with concern. "What happened here?" he asked, running a gentle finger over the burns and looking at the new scar, his face troubled.

"We had to deal with issues in the Blackmarsh," Lhiannon explained breathlessly, running her hands down Loghain's chest to rest on the waistband of his trousers. She began to tug at the knot there as her lips trailed down his chest and abdomen, her touch growing firmer and more urgent as she slid lower; she could feel his need and his length demanding release. He closed his eyes and groaned with desire as she pushed his trousers and smalls down to grasp his length, gently caressing it. "I promise to tell you later," she said, her breath brushing against his erection an instant before her lips surrounded it, the wet softness making Loghain's hips buck forward helplessly. He buried his hands in her hair and watched as her mouth and tongue brought him nearly to the sweet brink. Then her lips were traveling up his body, searching for his as he slipped a hand to her smalls and pushed them away.

"Come to bed, love," she purred, grasping his hand to lead him.

Before she knew it, he had whisked her into his arms, carrying her to the bedchamber as a groom carries his bride. He laid her gently on the bed, molding his body to hers. He lay on top of her, dropping his head to her neck to begin suckling the skin once again. He moved across the skin of her neck, slowly and languidly, wanting to explore every bit with his lips and tongue before moving on. She squirmed beneath him, her fingers lightly running over the skin of his back as she twisted her legs around his. He kissed his way up to her jaw before capturing her lips once again in his.

She opened her mouth for him, flicking her tongue lightly against his lips and teeth before moving her lips across his jaw. While she kissed his jaw and neck, he cupped one of her breasts in his hand, lightly caressing the hardened nipple; she gasped and writhed beneath him, squirming to give his hand freer access. Loghain pressed his lips to hers for a moment, breaking away to trail more over the curve of her jaw, down the skin of her neck and to the little hollow at the base, gently sucking the skin there. Lhiannon's hands found his hair, running them through it as he moved lower and took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth. He suckled it gently at first, then more firmly as her moans became more breathless, more urgent. She arched her back, pushing her breasts more firmly toward him. He trailed kisses across her chest, moving his mouth to the other nipple as a hand moved to cover the breast his mouth had just left, his calloused thumb brushing across the sensitive peak. He brushed his teeth across tender, rosy skin and she yelped, the sensations rocking her body; she craved more, writhing beneath him and moaning. Her blood hammered in her veins, searing hot and demanding the release she had waited weeks for.

Loghain began to trail kisses down her stomach, moving down her skin to the scar that crossed her hip. He traced the scar with lips and tongue, Lhiannon's moans occasionally broken by a breathless giggle. He moved his lips to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, nibbling the skin and eliciting more desperate, primal moans from the woman that would be his wife. He began to slowly wander toward her center and when his tongue lightly brushed her nub, she nearly leaped off the bed and Loghain could not stop the grin that crossed his face.

"Loghain, if you don't bring me to release soon, I'm likely to kill you," Lhiannon groaned breathlessly. "Please," she begged, "now..."

Loghain moved across her body, his mouth dragging across her stomach and chest until his face loomed over hers, a mischievous smirk on his face. "I do not wish to die before we marry; that would hardly be useful," he grinned, dropping a kiss on her lips as he slid effortlessly inside her; her hips bucked beneath him as he buried himself completely within her walls. "But if you think we are done after your release, you are mistaken."

Lhiannon's eyes flashed with greater desire, her own grin wolfish as she looked at Loghain. "I accept your challenge," she grinned, pulling his face to hers and thrusting her tongue into his mouth, swallowing his low groan. His kiss broke as he slowly pulled back; he raised his eyes to look at her face as he thrust forward. Her body arched beneath him, hair spilled across the pillow and nails scraping down his back. Loghain could feel welts rising on his skin in her fingernails' wake, pushing his desire even higher. He thrust again, hearing her low moan as his face was at her neck again, suckling the skin near her ear.

"Let me hear you," he growled in her ear, pulling back slowly and thrusting again.

Her nails dug into the skin of his back once more, causing him to shudder atop her. She turned her head so her mouth was near his ear. "Harder, then. _Make _me scream your name," she challenged. He thrust into her again, harder than before, her body arching under his and her moans growing louder with every thrust. Loghain grinned to himself; it was a good thing her chambers were the only occupied ones on this floor of the Vigil.

She moved to slide a hand between their bodies to caress her nub, but quickly found her hands pinned above her head with his own, his greater strength gently but firmly holding them in place. He looked into her eyes, grinning wolfishly once again. "No cheating," he breathed, smothering her mouth with his as he began thrusting again, each one seemingly harder than the last.

Lhiannon found herself racing toward her release as he held her hands pinned and her mouth captive with his. He swallowed her moans at first, then pulled his mouth away as her moans became louder, her voice driving him forward relentlessly. She moaned his name as he thrust into her and she writhed beneath him, her movements becoming more feral as the waves rocking her body grew stronger. He pinned her even more firmly to the bed and she voiced loudly her approval, the sensations of being trapped under him in such a thrilling manner sending spikes of intense pleasure through her. Her voice urged him on, thrusting and growling until she began to convulse beneath him, crying out his name as her muscles clenched around him and she arched beneath him, bringing his own release and his own shouts of her name. Loghain collapsed on top of Lhiannon, his heart racing; he could feel her heart racing equally fast through his chest. Loghain released Lhiannon's hands and she brought them to his back, gently stroking his skin as their breathing continued to calm. She turned her head toward Loghain's neck, beginning to suckle his flesh once again, tasting the salt on his skin from the sweat that covered his body. She felt his chuckle through her chest, a deep rumble that served to stoke her fire once again.

"You dare to start what you cannot finish?" Loghain growled, his own lips beginning to suckle the skin of Lhiannon's neck again. With a quick kick, Lhiannon rolled them over, Loghain on his back beneath her as she straddled his waist. She could feel his length touching her backside, its slight shudders telling her he was also not quite finished with her yet. She leaned forward and slithered up Loghain's body, her breasts brushing the skin of his chest as she sealed her mouth to his in a searing kiss. She pulled away, grinning. "We'll just have to see who can't finish," she said, her voice husky with lust. She slithered back down his body, her lips and tongue leaving a trail of kisses against his skin. She moved down to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, suckling and nipping the skin as his hips thrust against her. She worked her way across his lower abdomen, pausing for one caress of his length with her mouth, a low moan coming from his lips. His hands came to her head, trying to guide her mouth to his length. Grasping his hands, she quickly moved them to his sides and pinned them in place with two small glyphs of paralysis. He tried to move his hands but found them secured to the glyphs. He raised his eyes to her face and saw the wolfish grin there. She leaned over his length, looking at it pointedly before raising her eyes to his, the mischievous grin still on her face. "No cheating," she growled, running her tongue over the tip of his length as he growled again and thrust his hips.

Lhiannon slid up Loghain's body again, her hands on either side of his face as she probed his mouth with her tongue. She pulled back after a moment, meeting his eyes with a feral look. "Now _I_ want to hear _you_," she growled, moving back to straddle his hips once more, positioning her opening teasingly close to his length. She locked eyes with his and began to massage her breasts with her hands, running them slowly over the flesh as Loghain helplessly watched. While she ran one hand across her chest, the second first went to her mouth, where she slowly suckled a finger for a moment before her hand wandered down her chest and abdomen, her fingers brushing up against her nub and sending spikes of pleasure through her body. He growled low in his throat as he watched her rise slightly and part her folds, one finger gently caressing her opening before coming back to her nub. She tossed her head back as she touched herself for a several moments, moaning low and urgent before running that finger along his skin, watching goosebumps blossom in its wake. He raised his hips, desperately trying to find her opening with his hardened length. Lhiannon locked eyes with his again, a grin on her face as she slowly shook her head and rested her weight more firmly against his hips, stilling his movements.

"Let me touch you," he ground out, his words both firm demand and urgent plea.

"I said 'no cheating', Your Grace," she grinned, running her hands along her body once more. She moved her hips on top of his, keeping her opening just out of reach of his length as she watched him struggle with the glyphs, his breaths coming quick and urgent as his muscles worked to break the spell. She ran a finger along his length, feeling the searing heat and its quivers, hearing Loghain's sharp intake of breath. She continued to stroke his length, her touch alternating between light and teasing to firm and demanding. His groans filled her ears as his hips jerked uncontrollably at her touch.

His length screamed for release, its demand burning and pounding in his flesh and in his blood. He tried to break the spells' hold on his hands, wanting nothing more than to greedily plunder her body with them, but they were held fast. He growled loudly and then groaned her name as Lhiannon moved back, her mouth enveloping his length, moving slowly and teasingly along its length. Loghain moaned both in pleasure at the sensation and in frustration as he was unable to touch her. Her mouth moved along his length once more before she raised her head, moving her body to straddle his hips, her hands running up the broad expanse of his chest. They moved slowly, brushing his nipples as they traveled ever upward, past his shoulders and up his neck, eventually caressing his face. He turned his head, catching one of her fingers in his mouth, tasting the slick wetness of her arousal. Loghain growled as she lay atop him, her hands moving once again along his chest and shoulders while her breasts pressed into his abdomen and her lips suckled his skin. She slowly rose, trailing her hands along his chest before she at long last settled herself on his length, opening her body to him and grinding herself against him. She placed her hand at her nub, stroking it with every grind of her hips. He watched her helplessly as she ground her hips against him with reckless abandon. The hand stroking her nub moved faster, Loghain's growls intensifying and growing louder as he watched. As she neared her release, she broke the spell holding Loghain's hands; they were immediately on her skin and driving her already relentless grinding harder and faster. Once again, the sound of his voice shouting her name filled her bedchamber, his convulsions bringing her own release and cries of satisfaction.

Loghain sat up as his convulsions calmed, maneuvering Lhiannon off his slackening length and pulling her close, their chests pressed against one another as their breathing began to slow. Sweat rolled down their bodies to mingle where their skin touched. His arms held her tightly to him as she dropped her head onto his shoulder, her own arms wrapped around his broad chest.

After a moment catching her breath, Lhiannon raised her head from Loghain's shoulder and felt his hand under her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. He looked at her in a new light; this was not just a lover any more, but a woman who freely promised herself to him, a woman who would be his wife. He gently leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, a chaste kiss compared to the ones that were exchanged between them not long before.

"You didn't let me finish the question," he grinned, gazing into her dark eyes. She grinned and scoffed lightly. "I couldn't help myself. I already knew my answer. There was no sense in delay."

"Indeed," he grinned, laying back on the bed and pulling her with him. He reached over and grabbed the bed covers, pulling them up and over both of them as she snuggled closer to him. Loghain felt his eyes immediately grow heavy, the exhaustion from the return from Gwaren and their lovemaking quickly pulling him toward sleep. He felt Lhiannon's body began to relax next to him, her breathing already becoming slower and more even as she drifted toward sleep.

Loghain looked down at her though he could barely keep his eyes open. He lowered his head to the pillow, feeling her snuggle in closer to his chest.

"Will you marry me?" he finally asked, his voice quiet and heavy with exhaustion.

"Yes," she whispered, her own voice heavy with drowsiness. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, Loghain closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Loghain awoke a few hours later, finding that he was alone in Lhiannon's bed. Looking around, he did not see her in the bedchamber, but noticed the subtle glow of a fire from the fireplace in the next room. He rose from the bed, pulling on his trousers and padding with bare feet into the living area. He found Lhiannon huddled in a blanket on the lounge, looking into the fire.

"You left for Gwaren," she began, her voice quiet. Loghain moved to the lounge, sitting at the opposite end. Lhiannon had pulled Loghain's shirt on to cover herself. She had drawn her legs up onto the lounge, pulling the blanket tighter around her as her eyes remained on the fire. She was rubbing her thumb across the band of her ring, a small smile beginning to play across her face as she did so.

"Yes," Loghain agreed. "Cauthrien called for me when she found conspirators there, attempting sedition."

"And you left _Anders_ in charge? He didn't do one lick of paperwork in your absence," Lhiannon groused. Loghain snorted in mild amusement before turning serious once more. "I know you left Vigil's Keep in my care while you were gone. I did not want to shirk that duty, and I did not take leaving for Gwaren lightly."

Lhiannon sighed, pulling her hand out from under the blanket, smiling at the ring on her finger before reaching out for Loghain. He pulled her to his lap, wrapping the blanket over both of them as he held her close. "I know you would not have left unless it was dire, Loghain," she said, resting her head against him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She sat against him for several minutes, absorbing the warmth of his body. His arms were wrapped around her, his fingers caressing her arm lightly. He felt her newest scar under the fabric, a raised line on her arm. He gently pulled the fabric up her arm to expose the scar, turning her arm so that he could see it clearly.

"What happened here?" he asked, brushing his lips across the newly healed skin.

Lhiannon giggled slightly. "That was from the demon in the Blackmarsh. My arm was broken and the bone came out of the skin. The creature burned me pretty badly as well." She looked into Loghain's eyes and he could see the amusement in hers. "I healed it myself too, I'll have you know."

"Now I'm impressed," he scoffed, pulling the sleeve back into place. "You actually healed a wound greater than a scrape."

"Funny," Lhiannon said, slapping at his arm mockingly. She told Loghain of the darkspawn in the marsh and how they ran into another sentient darkspawn, The First. Loghain's brow furrowed at the thought of yet another intelligent darkspawn. Lhiannon also told him about the demon in the guise of the Orlesian baroness that ruled there before the rebellion and how her dark magic pulled the entire village and its inhabitants into the Fade. The tale ended with discovering Justice and watching as he was pulled into the corpse of the Grey Warden Kristoff.

"It…possessed…the body of the dead man?" Loghain asked, a look of revulsion crossing his face.

Lhiannon nodded, her own face twisting slightly in revulsion. "Yes, it entered Kristoff's body, making him an abomination of sorts. However, Anders was able to help it return to the Fade. We brought Kristoff's body back for the funeral. His wife is here."

"I'm sorry I was not here to help you," Loghain said quietly.

Lhiannon waved his apology off and rested her hand on Loghain's cheek, gently caressing the skin with her thumb. "So, shall we both reside in your chambers or mine?" she grinned, holding up the hand with the engagement band on it. "No sense keeping separate quarters now."

"Yours are more private; a good thing if our recent endeavors are any indication of our future," Loghain grinned, taking her hand in his and running his thumb over the silverite adorning her finger. "I shall move my things here. I will need a new office though if I am vacating my present quarters."

With a laugh, Lhiannon snuggled herself in closer to Loghain and the heat coming off his body. "I'm sure I can arrange something for you. There is an empty room across the way from my office."

"Done," Loghain agreed, turning and giving Lhiannon a kiss on her temple.

Lhiannon grinned at Loghain. "Well, on a different subject, Jowan took the Joining," she said simply.

Loghain slowly nodded. "I thought I felt a new presence in the taint when I returned." He turned to look down at her; his face bore a questioning expression. "What made you decide to have him take the Joining?"

"We compared the letters from Tomas to blank parchment Teagan found in Isolde's private office. We needed to do something that would force her to make a move. Conscripting Jowan was the catalyst. Jowan was talented enough to be a Grey Warden anyway, so his Joining served a dual purpose."

Loghain nodded his understanding. "How did Eamon and Isolde take to your decision to conscript him?"

With a scoff, Lhiannon turned to meet Loghain's gaze. "Well, Isolde is here at Vigil's Keep. In the dungeon." Loghain sat bolt upright, the blanket falling to the floor in a heap. He shook his head, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words for his astonishment.

"What? Isolde is _here_? What in the bloody hell happened in Redcliffe? What of Eamon?"

Lhiannon chuckled slightly at Loghain's astonishment. "I can't believe that for a moment I had Loghain Mac Tir lacking for words." Loghain raised his brows at her, silently urging her to continue the story.

"Well, what put things over the edge was that Isolde tried to assassinate me in my sleep."

"That Orlesian _tart_ tried to kill you?" Loghain exclaimed, looking at Lhiannon warily for a moment before he suddenly laughed heartily. Lhiannon had rarely heard him so much as chuckle enthusiastically, let alone laugh directly from his core. Her gaze turned to astonishment as she watched him laugh lustily. He saw her astonishment and snickered. "Now who is speechless?"

Lhiannon nodded her head, scoffing at him. "I just haven't heard you laugh so, lustily, before. It's nice to hear, but not exactly the reaction I pictured from you."

"I do laugh, contrary to your beliefs; it's just that so rarely are there opportunities to do so. The thought of that ridiculous bitch trying to play the bard struck me as amusing." Loghain waved a hand, pushing the thought aside. "Anyway, Isolde tried to kill you? Was Sigrun with you?" Loghain asked, picking up the blanket and covering the two of them with it again. Lhiannon snuggled in closer as the blanket settled into place.

"Yes. A noise woke me from my sleep. I cast a small ball of light up toward the ceiling and saw a shrouded person approaching my bed with a dagger. Sigrun was right behind her and tackled her as I rolled out of the way."

"Were there witnesses? I can imagine her denying her involvement if there was no one to witness her capture."

Lhiannon nodded. "Yes. We waited to pull the shroud off her face until Eamon and Teagan were there. Garavel and Nathaniel were there too. We took her into custody right away and as soon as the sun rose, we made for Vigil's Keep." She paused for a moment, placing her hand on Loghain's arm and running her hand absentmindedly against his bare skin. "Eamon wanted to keep her in custody in Redcliffe."

"To have her escape?" Loghain snorted, grasping her hand and lacing his fingers within hers, feeling the silver of her band against his skin.

"That's what I said," Lhiannon agreed. "That's why I had her brought here. I sent Garavel to Denerim to tell the King what happened. He and Anora will be here in about a week to hear the charges against her and pass judgment. Eamon, Teagan, and Fergus Cousland will also be here."

"I assume you have interrogated Isolde," Loghain asked, watching as Lhiannon shrugged at his question. "Oh, we've tried," she said, her brows rising as she spoke. "She's been less than cooperative."

A grin tugged at the corner of Loghain's mouth. "Would you like me to try?" he asked, wry amusement in his voice.

Lhiannon laughed at his suggestion. "I hardly think she would give you her _name, _much less any useful information; she hates you like no other."

Loghain nodded, his lips pressed together in thought. "I do not doubt it," he said quietly, pulling Lhiannon tighter to him. "Nevertheless, I will speak to her and she _will_ answer me, one way or another." He gazed into the fire for several moments, turning the subject of Eamon over in his thoughts. "What did Eamon know of this?"

"He and Isolde spoke of their mutual dissatisfaction me and you. He admitted that much in front of us."

Shaking his head, Loghain scoffed, his gaze on the fire. "We must be cautious with Eamon. I find it difficult to believe he is completely innocent in this affair. Eamon is shrewd; he will try to deflect suspicion away from himself."

"I agree; we shall need to discuss it with the King and Queen when they arrive. Now, tell me about Gwaren," Lhiannon said, resting her head against Loghain's shoulder and gently placing a kiss on his neck. "What happened there?"

Loghain told her about the beating Thorne received that brought him very nearly to the brink of death. He told of the conspirators that were there trying to undermine the teyrnir and force him to choose between the teyrnir and the Grey Wardens. Lhiannon listened intently as he told her of the conspirators being brought before Loghain and how they told him how his mage would never find peace and that they would hunt her and kill him if he continued to consort with her.

Lhiannon sat upright suddenly, looking at Loghain with wide eyes. "Wait. They said we?" she asked, bringing a hand up to her face. Loghain felt a pit begin to form in his stomach as he sensed her concern through the taint.

"Yes, they implied that there were more of them," Loghain said. He stared into her eyes, his gaze intense. "Why? What did you hear?"

"Isolde also implied that there were others."

Loghain's face grew dark as he considered what he was told in Gwaren with what Lhiannon just told him. "We must remain vigilant. I fear this is not over yet," he growled, punching his fist into the cushion of the lounge.

"I fear you're right," Lhiannon agreed, the color draining from her face.

Loghain turned and looked out the window of the chamber, seeing the first streaks of light in the sky signaling that dawn was not far off. He and Lhiannon had only slept a few hours, but he strangely felt more awake than ever. He looked at Lhiannon and smiled, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Enough talk of work and conspiracies. Stay here for a few moments," he said, gently guiding Lhiannon off his lap and onto the lounge next to him. "I shall see about breakfast for us and tell Varel that we are not to be disturbed this morning." He grinned at her as he rose, holding out a hand and pulling Lhiannon to her feet as she returned his grin. "Do we have water for a bath?"

"No, we need fresh water."

"Then I shall call for that as well," Loghain said, looking at Lhiannon with a grin on his face. "I'm going to need my shirt."

Grinning, Lhiannon pulled Loghain's shirt over her head and handed it to him, standing before him naked. He pulled her close, planting a searing kiss on her lips as he cupped one of her breasts. Breaking the kiss, he pulled the blanket from the lounge, wrapping it around Lhiannon before donning his shirt and turning to find his boots. With a nod and a smile, Loghain left on his errands.

* * *

Breakfast grew cold as Lhiannon and Loghain took their bath together. Unsurprisingly, a large puddle of water had gathered on the floor before they had emerged from the tub, skin wrinkled and grinning, ready to travel down the new path that lay before them.

* * *

_"While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as if someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door." - Edgar Allen Poe. Now we know who was rapping at Lhiannon's door, but really, it was no huge surprise. :) He had to arrive at Vigil's Keep sometime.  
_

_I know I usually have a few days between chapters, but I've been in a major hurry to get this one out there. :) The conversation at the end of the chapter is pretty light; they will delve more into the pressing issues once the afterglow begins to wane.  
_

_I've mentioned before how I sometimes use music to keep me focused on the writing. This chapter was certainly no exception. For the love story between Lhiannon and Loghain, I've used Evanescence's "Bring Me to Life" and Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" as my general inspiration. "Ring of Fire" is where a lot of the fire stoking references come from. For this particular chapter, I began with Muse's "Undisclosed Desires" and Kid Rock's "Lonely Road of Faith." Once things started to get a little more, um, heated, I turned to Damn Yankees' "Come Again", Ted Nugent's "Little Miss Dangerous", and Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me." When things took the REALLY heated road, it was My Darkest Days' "Porn Star Dancing" and Nine Inch Nails' "Closer"._

_Special thanks and kudos as always to my most excellent reviewers Shakespira (always a pleasure to hear from you!), icey cold (whose GR I can't even compete with, why am I even trying? ;) ), Arsinoe de Blassenville, Aura of Darkness Night, Enaid Aderyn, and Zute (who came in at the very last minute!). Your encouragement means a lot to a noob like me. _

_As always, thanks to you readers and lurkers, and those who bookmark and favorite the story. I'm glad to have you along for the ride!  
_


	41. Greetings and Goodbyes

"I suppose we should put forth some sort of appearance within the Vigil today," Lhiannon said, her hands deftly braiding her damp hair, the weight of the band on her finger making her grin.

Loghain chuckled at Lhiannon as he handed her a tie for her hair, which she had pulled back into a simple braid after they emerged from their shared bath. She had donned a simple tunic and trousers for the day; Loghain had also donned a tunic and trousers, but would soon stop at his chambers to don his Warden armor. After he and Lhiannon had their midday meal, he planned on visiting the soon-to-be former Arlessa of Redcliffe; 'former' if had anything to say about it, and he wanted to look the part of an imposing Grey Warden and Teyrn by visiting her in his full armor. Lhiannon finished securing her braid before picking up the small ties that would grace the end of Loghain's two small braids. She turned to him, reaching up and quickly braiding the two small locks, his eyes closed in pleasure.

"Did you tell Varel just _why_ we couldn't be disturbed this morning?" Lhiannon grinned as she secured the first braid and moved to the second one. Loghain opened his eyes, glancing at her as she separated the small lock of his hair into three strands and began weaving them together. "Certainly not," he scoffed. "I thought you might like to be the one to share the news."

"If I had my way, I would be shouting it from the top of the Vigil," she grinned, quickly securing Loghain's braid in place. He placed his hands on either side of her face, pulling her gently to him for a kiss, his lips moving softly over hers.

The smell of the noontime meal was wafting through the corridors of Vigil's Keep when Lhiannon and Loghain emerged from Lhiannon's quarters and made their way to the dining hall. The Wardens were all there and looked up as Lhiannon and Loghain entered. There were curious glances as the Wardens saw Loghain enter behind Lhiannon, his hand at the small of her back as he guided her to where the food was being served. Anders quickly waved to Lhiannon as she finished gathering her plate, shoving Jowan further down the bench to make room for Lhiannon and Loghain next to them. Jowan scoffed and picked himself up, moving to the bench across the table and sat next to Nathaniel, scowling with humor at Anders. Loghain looked at the newest Grey Warden warily, his eyes narrowing but saying nothing. Jowan looked uncomfortable, his gaze looking to anything but the Teyrn before him.

"Sleeping in late today, Lhi?" Anders asked, earning a scoff from Loghain for his trouble.

"Yes, perhaps a little. Loghain arrived late last night and we were up late were discussing our various trips." _Which is somewhat true_, she thought to herself, a small grin lighting across her face. "Among other things."

"_Really_?" Anders leered, leaning over to look past Lhiannon to where Loghain sat beside her, taking a draw from the tankard of cider in his hand. Loghain rolled his eyes, shaking his head as Anders turned to glance at Jowan and Nathaniel. "I wonder what they were, um, _discussing_?"

"Oh, for love of the Maker," Lhiannon scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically and nearly laughing out loud at the irritated scoff she heard from Loghain. "Have a care, mage," he growled. She brought her hand up from where it sat on her lap, showing them the silverite band. "Loghain asked me to be his wife and I have accepted."

"Married?" Anders grinned, examining the Tevinter inscription and nodding his approval. "Wonder what the Chantry will have to say. Not that I care what those old buzzards think."

"There's no law forbidding us to marry," Lhiannon said, showing the inscription to Jowan, who raised a brow in interest as he studied the inscription. "They will just have to deal with it."

"Did I hear someone say they're getting married?" Oghren shouted from across the hall. "Such news deserves a drink!"

"As if he needs a reason," Nathaniel scoffed, rolling his eyes.

The meal turned into a spontaneous, joyous celebration among the Grey Wardens, with congratulations and good-natured teasing for both Lhiannon and Loghain. After they ate their meal—hastily, as Loghain wanted to get out from under the spotlight—she accompanied him to his chambers to don his heavy armor. Isolde was waiting.

* * *

"Well, this is certainly an interesting chain of events, wouldn't you say?"

Loghain watched as Isolde turned from the small table in her cell to glare at him. Her face darkened and a vicious snarl crossed her features as Loghain slid a tray of food through the narrow opening at the floor. "Go to hell, Loghain Mac Tir," she snarled, turning back to the letter she was no doubt penning to either Eamon or Connor. Eamon would be at Vigil's Keep long before the letter would arrive in Redcliffe. As for Connor, the Chantry would likely confiscate and destroy the letter, preferring their mages to have no contact with the outside world. Of course, any letter she penned while in the dungeon would have to cross Loghain's desk and he intended to closely scrutinize every one.

Loghain crossed his arms over his breastplate, the sound of metal on metal loud in the small cell block. Isolde was in a special area of the dungeon for high value prisoners, away from the general population of minor criminals and drunken miscreants. At least one guard was posted in her sight at all times, watching the disgraced Arlessa carefully. Lhiannon had ordered that Isolde be well cared for, far better treatment than she had bestowed on Jowan. Isolde was brought decent food and allowed to bathe and change into clean clothes daily. She looked a little pale from lack of sun; Loghain could also see the _real_ Isolde, now that she did not have access to her frilly Orlesian face paints. Instead of looking fresh and young, she looked weathered.

"Come now, Isolde. Surely you wish to admonish me, tell me what an evil regicide I am? How I should have been executed at the Landsmeet instead of being shown mercy and conscripted into the Grey Wardens?" Loghain watched as Isolde turned to face him again, her eyes narrowed and fists clenched.

"You are all those things and far worse, _commoner,_" Isolde growled, her fists clenching even tighter. "You tried to kill Eamon and forced that apostate to manipulate Connor. You left Cailan to die at Ostagar. There should have been no forgiveness for what you did and that your Commander showed you mercy is unconscionable. Now, if you have nothing more than sarcasm and insults for me, go. I have nothing to say to you."

Loghain marched forward and wrapped his armored hands around the bars of the cell, watching as Isolde continued to glare at him. "Ah, 'commoner'; that old argument. Truly, you and Eamon are so very predictable in your royalist bent. You and Eamon opposed the Queen because she wasn't 'royal enough' for your liking, that she was born to a 'commoner'." Loghain sneered at Isolde, the contempt for her holier-than-thou attitude clear in his voice. "I may not have been highborn, but the Queen certainly was, thanks to King Maric elevating me to Teyrn. You _do_ remember Maric, don't you? I don't know how many generations it takes for intolerant fools such as you and Eamon to recognize nobility. Now, answer my questions and I shall be happy to leave you to rot."

Pointedly turning her back, Isolde resumed writing her letters. Though she took pains to hide it, Loghain saw her hands trembling, her fingers very near to snapping the quill in her hand. Whether it was from apprehension or fury, he could not say. "Why did you try to assassinate the Warden Commander and who sent you? I find it hard to believe you could dream up a scheme such as that all by yourself."

Isolde continued to scratch words onto the parchment, pointedly ignoring Loghain's question for several long moments before turning her eyes to Loghain, a smirk on her face. "I do not seem to recall that event."

"You do not recall," Loghain drawled, stepping back from the cell door as if lost in thought. "Surely you remember sending men to Gwaren to plant the seeds of sedition there, yes?"

"Not that I can recall," Isolde said, her voice sounding as though she were bored with the whole affair. _He can ask all the questions he likes,_ Isolde thought, plucking at the plain dress she wore with her fingers. _He will not get any answers from me. Nor will the sham of a 'court' they are convening to dispense their so-called 'justice'._

"Then I assume you don't recall the letters you sent out with instructions for your pathetic lackeys?" Loghain growled, wondering just how opposed to torture the Commander was. A facetious thought, to be sure, but it crossed his mind nonetheless. _That would get me some answers._

Isolde reached over and picked up a copy of the Chant of Light that was on her small table, thumbing through the pages as Loghain glared at her. "What letters do you mean?" she asked, opening to one of the pages and beginning to read.

Loghain narrowed his eyes at Isolde, glaring at her with an icy expression as she lazily turned the pages of the book. "I also understand that you laid your filthy Orlesian hands on the Commander," he growled, his voice low and deadly.

Isolde's head shot up, whipping around to glare once again at Loghain. "And I would do it again. _Gladly_."

"Your actions, the least of which was laying your hands on her, have made you powerful enemies," Loghain growled. "If you want mercy from them, I would suggest that you cooperate."

"I see no reason to cooperate with you, or your precious Commander," she snarled. "She should be locked away in the tower with all the others of her kind, not given an arling and a position of authority over nonmages. Her_ betters."_

Loghain narrowed his eyes once again at Isolde, the icy glare causing Isolde's eyes to widen slightly. "And does your belief include the apostates hired to tutor the sons of the nobility in how to hide their magical skills? Or the sons themselves? Or do they garner special treatment, being the sons of such long, 'noble' bloodlines? Is the Circle just for 'commoners'?"

Isolde's eyes narrowed and she glared at him for a long moment before waving her hand in dismissal and turning her attention back to her table. "I will not oblige you with arguments or answers. You are beneath my contempt."

Taking a deep breath, Loghain slowly let it out, trying to will the ache that suddenly appeared in his skull away. Isolde, clearly, was not going to cooperate with his questioning, other than to be willful and argumentative. Lhiannon had warned him that Isolde was being uncooperative. He had hoped to return to Lhiannon with some answers from Isolde, but that seemed highly unlikely. Torture, unfortunately, was out of the question. _If she were not an Arlessa, even a disgraced one…the thought is tempting._

"Were I you, I would consider the gravity of the situation in which I find myself," Loghain barked sharply, causing Isolde to suddenly flinch in her chair from the sharpness in his voice. "Your fate is to be decided within days. There is enough evidence against you to find you guilty of the crimes you are accused of." Loghain watched her face blanch ever so slightly before she set her jaw defiantly. He pointed to the book in her hands. "I would set things to rights with the Maker while you still have the luxury of time." Loghain then turned on his heel and left Isolde to ponder his words.

* * *

The clouds hung low and gray in the sky, promising that the first of the snowflakes that had begun to fall would certainly not be the last. Lhiannon looked toward the sky, pulling her cloak tightly around her as she gazed upward. The King and Queen were expected here in a few days, along with Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan, and Teyrn Fergus to hear the charges and pass judgment on Isolde. Today, however, she was concerned with more pressing and somber affairs. She brought her gaze back down to Aura and where she stood before the pyre of her husband, Kristoff. A priest from the Chantry in Amaranthine was close by. The priest walked around the pyre, chanting solemn prayers and anointing the body with incense, its sharp smell permeating the air.

Lhiannon watched as Varel, Captain Garavel, and the Grey Wardens began to approach the pyre bearing Kristoff's body. Behind them were several soldiers from the Vigil. Her Wardens were dressed in their new armor of the order; Nathaniel wore light studded leathers with the Grey Warden griffon embossed on the chest. Sigrun wore light plate armor while Oghren had opted for heavier plate. The mages all wore robes with the griffon standard woven into the fabric. Loghain was in his heavy plate as well. Lhiannon found herself impressed by their appearance, even if the circumstances for it were somber.

Kristoff's body was covered with a cloth bearing the Grey Warden griffon, awaiting the flames of the pyre. Aura had been standing next to it for some time, saying her final goodbyes to her husband. Around her neck was a small gold chain looped through the ring Kristoff wore since their wedding day. Lhiannon approached Aura and quietly spoke to her. "Are you ready to begin?" Aura nodded and turned with Lhiannon to face the gathered mass.

"'In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice'," Lhiannon began, her hands clasped behind her back and cloak billowing slightly behind her.

"These are the words the Grey Wardens live by. This is our way of life and reason for being. Our victory against the archdemon had a high price, leaving us with much to do to repair our nation. Kristoff came to Ferelden in the midst of that victory to help us rebuild our order. That was to be his part in our new peace, our new vigilance.

"He gave his life in the quest to rid our land of the last vestiges of the Blight. Though he was not Ferelden, he gave his life for us in sacrifice, fighting the darkspawn that have recently threatened to take our world away; for that, we should be grateful to him.

"Though I did not know Kristoff, I felt a kinship with him through our shared taint and our shared goal to rid the world of the darkspawn. Grey Wardens are the bravest of the brave, the best warriors, rogues, and mages. His bravery to help rid our nation of the darkspawn is worthy of our gratitude and thanks.

"As Andraste was returned to the Maker through the flames, so we return Kristoff to His side and to the waiting arms of Andraste, His Bride."

Lhiannon turned to the flaming torch next to the pyre, picking it up and pushing it into a gap in the wood. After a moment, the flames began to spread, enveloping the wood and eventually the body of Kristoff. Aura began to quietly weep next to Lhiannon; she reached over and put an arm around Aura's shoulder, lending what comfort she could. They watched as the pyre burned and eventually, the flames began to subside. Lhiannon gently turned Aura toward the Vigil, walking at her side back toward the fortress, the Grey Wardens behind them.

"Aura, remember, you have a home here with us for as long as you wish," Lhiannon said as they neared the Vigil. "You need not rush off."

Aura nodded, slowly and solemnly. "If I stay, Commander, I will need something to do. I want to be useful. I can't sit and pine away the days."

Lhiannon thought for a moment as they continued to walk the grounds of Vigil's Keep. "Are you skilled in keeping books? Ledgers and such?"

"Yes," Aura said, nodding more quickly now. "My father was a clothing merchant in Antiva. I often helped keep track of his purchases and sales to his customers."

"I'm sure we can have you keep some of the ledgers for the arling and the Grey Wardens," Lhiannon said, smiling at Aura. "I know Varel could certainly use the help. Mistress Woolsey has also mentioned returning to her home for a visit, so the Wardens could use your help there as well. That is, if you're interested, of course."

Aura nodded emphatically, a small smile lighting on her face. She delicately dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "I would like that very much, Commander."

"Then it's settled," Lhiannon said, placing a hand on Aura's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You will help us keep the books here." She glanced over her shoulder at Loghain, who walked with Varel several paces behind them. "I know Loghain will be most pleased to hear we have help. He hates paperwork; this will give him just the excuse he was looking for to get out of his office and into the training room more often."

She caught Loghain's eyes with her own and gave him a smile. He gave her a warm smile in return, the scowl on his face fading in their brief glance. Now that she had promised herself to him, his smiles for her were filled with so much love, they made her heart flutter madly. Not that his smiles were not loving before, but they were slightly different now, as if he were filled with a new found confidence.

She loved him even more in that moment.

* * *

"Commander! Riders approach the gates!"

Lhiannon looked up at the soldier from where she worked at her desk. She could see across the hall into Loghain's new office; he had moved his belongings into her quarters two days before, which necessitated a new office for him. The study across the hall was perfect. Loghain was at his desk, bent over his paperwork and scowling, but looked up as the soldier stood in Lhiannon's doorway, waiting for a response from her.

"What standard do they fly?" Lhiannon asked, rising from her chair to look out the window toward the fortress gates. She could not see the riders from here due to the snow blowing about and frost covering the glass. She tried to scrape some of the frost away to peer outside, but did little more than smear the glass. They were expecting those coming for Isolde's trial to begin arriving in the following afternoon, with the trial beginning the next day; whoever this was must have set out early to either beat the weather or beat the other participants to Vigil's Keep.

"They fly the King's standard, Commander."

Lhiannon turned to the soldier and saw that Loghain had left his desk and was crossing the hall into their quarters. He walked to the window, scoffing at the bleary mess Lhiannon's scraping efforts had left on the glass. "Stable their horses and have the servants bring their personal effects into the Vigil," Lhiannon ordered. "Also ask Varel to see to their needs personally while Loghain and I prepare to come greet them."

The soldier gave a crisp salute before turning on his heel to relay Lhiannon's orders. She rose from her desk and went to her chambers to put on something more suitable than a plain longshirt and trousers to greet the King and Queen. She turned to look at Loghain, who was also in his typical clothing.

"We should perhaps wear something more appropriate for the Alistair and Anora," Lhiannon suggested, rustling through her armoire for a simple long sleeved gown. She pulled a gown of forest green out from the armoire and tossed it on the bed, working the ties to her shirt in the process. Loghain watched with interest as she hurriedly pulled off her more casual clothes and slipped on the gown. As she pulled the sleeves up over her arms and shoulders, Loghain came behind her and laced it up, occasionally dropping a kiss onto the bare skin of her neck.

"So easily distracted," she grinned as he finished tying the laces of her gown.

"Your skin makes it difficult to concentrate," he said as he pulled her into his arms, blistering her lips with a searing kiss. She pulled away after a moment, panting heavily in his arms. _Damned visitors_. "Come, Loghain, get dressed. We shouldn't leave the King and Queen waiting."

Loghain kissed her one last time before pulling a dark tunic and pants from his own armoire, donning them with the quick efficiency of a soldier. He finished by pulling dark boots on as he watched Lhiannon quickly brush her long hair, leaving it unbound and falling softly around her shoulders. She turned to him when she was finished and found his hand outstretched toward her.

"Shall we?" he asked. Lhiannon nodded as he laced his fingers into hers, leading her out of their shared chambers and toward the audience hall where the King and Queen would be momentarily.

They walked hand in hand through the halls, Loghain's thumb absently stroking the soft skin of Lhiannon's hand. In the audience hall, a bright fire was burning in the large fireplace, lending a cheery warmth to the room that chased the drafts and shadows away. Varel was nearby and Lhiannon noticed that he had hastily gathered the other Grey Wardens. Lhiannon was relieved to see that they had all dressed in suitably appropriate attire to greet their guests; even Oghren was cleaned up and did not have the rank odor of dwarven ale on him. Lhiannon took her place near her chair at the front of the hall, Loghain at her side as her Second. Varel came to stand at her other side.

The Vigil's chamberlain came bustling into the audience chamber, his face flushed from the biting wind outside. "His Majesty King Alistair Theirin and Her Majesty Queen Anora Mac Tir Theirin!"

Lhiannon dropped to one knee, the Grey Wardens and Varel following suit as Alistair and Anora entered the chamber in a burst of snow and wind. Both were dressed in riding clothes and covered with thick furs to combat the cold. They approached the front of the hall where Lhiannon stood.

"Oh please, you need not kneel," Alistair groused, holding out his hand to take Lhiannon's and guiding her to her feet. Anora was at his side as Loghain rose, meeting his daughter's expectant gaze with a warm smile. Lhiannon glanced at Anora, seeing the glow that pregnancy had imparted on her before returning her gaze to Alistair. She smiled broadly at her friend. "Welcome to Vigil's Keep, Your Majesties. We are honored to have you as our guests."

"And we are honored to be here, though we both wish the circumstances were less somber," Alistair said. He turned to Loghain, who was embracing Anora warmly. Lhiannon could see where her stomach was showing her advancing pregnancy; she could feel Loghain's joy through the taint as he placed a hand on her stomach, a look of content and fascination on his face.

"Loghain, I had wanted Anora to stay in Denerim since she was with child, but she insisted on coming." Alistair gave his wife a crooked grin before speaking to her father again. "She can be as stubborn as a mabari."

Lhiannon scoffed lightly and saw that Loghain did as well. "I apologize for imparting that trait upon her," Loghain said, his voice neutral.

"I would not pass up an opportunity to see my father," Anora smiled, grasping her father's hand. "I was getting restless being cooped up in the palace. Some fresh air will do me and the child good."

Lhiannon turned her attention back to Alistair, motioning to the Grey Wardens lined up along the wall nearby. "Your Majesty, may I present to you the Grey Wardens of Ferelden." She introduced each Warden in turn, watching with pride as each stepped forward and bowed to the King. Even Velanna gave the King a small bow and Lhiannon made a note to thank her for the gesture later. Lhiannon was nearly finished with the introductions when she heard the doors to the Vigil open and a small commotion erupt outside the audience hall. The chamberlain was protesting something when two heavily bundled figures entered the hall, the snow falling off their shoulders in clumps. The Grey Wardens turned to regard their new visitors, their looks varying from confused to wary.

Alistair returned his gaze from the back of the hall to Lhiannon and gave her one if his infamous lopsided grins. "Did I forget to mention that I brought additional guests? I didn't think you would mind."

Lhiannon carefully scrutinized the two heavily bundled newcomers as they began to unwind scarves from around their heads. She caught a glimpse of golden hair and pointed ears on one and shiny red hair on the other. A wide grin crossed Lhiannon's face as she hurried over to her new guests, her excitement barely contained.

"Zevran. Leliana. Welcome to Vigil's Keep," she grinned, putting an arm around each one and hugging them fiercely.

Leliana quickly dropped her scarf, pulling Lhiannon into a tight embrace. "Lhiannon, my dear friend, it is a joy to see you again."

A wry chuckle brought Lhiannon's attention to the elf beside them. Lhiannon looked to Zevran and saw him shaking his head, a grin threatening to spread across his face. "Now, as much as I would like to see you continue such an embrace, I find myself becoming jealous and perhaps a bit lonely."

Lhiannon smiled warmly, disentangling herself from Leliana's clutching embrace to move toward Zevran. He held his arms open and gently brought her into them. "I have missed you, my lovely Warden," he crooned into her ear, his voice warm.

And I, you, my friend," Lhiannon said, pulling back to gaze into Zevran's eyes. There was something different about him; it was not until Leliana drew close to his side and brushed up against him that she realized what it was. Zevran caught the rise of Lhiannon's brow and he chuckled heartily. "Ah, jealous, my lovely Warden? There is always room for one more."

"No, Zev," Lhiannon scoffed, leaning in close so she could not be overheard. "I am not alone, either." Lhiannon watched as Zevran's eyes flicked over to where the Grey Wardens stood, looking for the lucky man who could be sharing his lovely friend's bed and affections. She saw the corner of Zevran's mouth tick upward slightly when his gaze landed on Loghain, whose eyes had narrowed ever so slightly at the elf. Though Loghain's reaction was subtle, Zevran caught it. He turned back to Lhiannon, a brow slightly raised as his eyes landed on the silverite band on her finger. "You have to share your tale with me, my dear." Leliana nodded her emphatic agreement. "I do so love _romantic _tales," she whispered quietly, her voice gleeful.

"Perhaps later," Lhiannon chuckled, beckoning them toward the assembled group. "Our evening meal is scheduled to begin in a couple of hours. Until then, allow my seneschal to show you to your rooms." She spread her hands toward their guests. "Our home is yours. Please feel free to explore the grounds as you wish. Ask any of us for assistance if you need it." Varel turned to Leliana and Zevran, ushering them out of the hall to show them their guest chambers himself. The Grey Wardens scattered in several different directions as Lhiannon and Loghain stood before the King and Queen. Lhiannon returned to Loghain's side, giving her attention to Alistair and Anora as the hall emptied; soon, it was just the four of them remaining. She took a side step closer to Loghain, who placed his hand at the small of her back. Alistair simply looked between Lhiannon and Loghain, but Anora's brow lifted ever so slightly; Lhiannon had to suppress a laugh. There was no question in her mind which parent Anora inherited that look from.

"We have news. Loghain has asked me to be his wife and I have accepted," Lhiannon stated simply, holding out her hand with the blue silverite ring. Anora and Alistair exchanged a glance before returning their attention to Lhiannon and Loghain. Alistair leaned forward, whispering to Lhiannon. "Are you certain about this?" Lhiannon turned to him, a look of warning on her face. "Alistair…" she growled quietly. Lhiannon felt Loghain's impatience with Alistair growing; there was only so much he could tolerate from the King, especially when it came to questioning his betrothed about her decision to marry him. His tolerance for that was very low indeed.

Alistair pulled back, still holding Lhiannon's gaze. "So, I get to call you Mother now?" Alistair asked, the boyish smirk lighting across his face.

"Not if you value your life, you don't," Lhiannon smirked, rolling her eyes at Alistair.

The King and Queen offered their congratulations, both of them hugging Lhiannon warmly. While Anora gave her father a warm hug, Alistair offered a firm, if slightly uncomfortable and brief handshake, which Loghain accepted with a curt nod. Alistair, it appeared, would continue to honor his promise to Anora: the promise that he would do his best to be at least civil with her father. When the congratulations were finished, Lhiannon bid them to follow, showing them to spacious quarters on the floor just below her and Loghain' chambers.

* * *

Dinner that evening was a cheerful affair, despite the circumstances of the King and Queen's visit. The dining hall buzzed with animated conversations. Lhiannon found that her Grey Wardens were peppering Zevran and Leliana with questions concerning their journeys with their Commander during the quest to defeat the Blight. In some ways, Lhiannon was a bit nervous as to what stories they were telling, especially Zevran. His stories were always sprinkled with generous amounts of innuendo.

Lhiannon had rose from where she sat at Loghain's side to find a cup of cider. As she found the carafe near a buffet table, she heard a polite cough from behind her. She turned and faced Leliana and Zevran standing before her. Leliana wore a look of grim determination while Zevran had a nervous look on his face. Lhiannon's brow furrowed as she looked at her two friends.

"What is it?" she asked them, a puzzled look on her face. "Is something wrong?"

Zevran looked at Leliana with a mixture of concern and anger. "Leliana wishes to take the Joining against my wishes."

Lhiannon looked to Leliana, surprised by Zevran's outburst. "Is this true, Leliana? You wish to take the Joining?"

With an emphatic nod, she gripped Zevran's hand tighter. "Yes. I do."

"You know that the Joining is not without risk, yes?" Lhiannon said, raising her brows.

"That is what I've been trying to tell her but she will not listen to me," Zevran growled, looking at Leliana with deep concern. "She is adamant that this is what _the Maker_ wants her to do."

"It _is_ what the Maker wants of me," Leliana insisted. She turned her gaze to Lhiannon, almost pleading with her. "I know the Maker sent me with you to help stem the darkness of the Blight. Being a Grey Warden is part of the Maker's will. I cannot deny His will. Make me a Grey Warden, Lhiannon. Let me do the Maker's will."

"Leliana, my love, please," Zevran pleaded; Lhiannon thought the elf was ready to drop to his knees in front of everyone and plead with her to reconsider. Lhiannon looked out of the corner of her eye and saw several people looking their way with interest. She saw that Alistair, Loghain, and Varel were among them. "Please, don't risk your life for this. You can help the Grey Wardens in other ways."

Leliana shook her head, determined in her course. She brought her hand up to Zevran's face, cupping his cheek gently as she leaned forward and kissed the opposite one. "I must do this. You'll be with me, yes?"

Lhiannon watched as Zevran's shoulders slumped in resignation. His gaze fell toward the ground and he nodded reluctantly. "Of course." After a moment, he raised his gaze to Leliana and gave her a lopsided grin. "Can we at least knock boots before you take the Joining?"

Leliana scoffed and slapped playfully at Zevran's arm. "You have a one track mind, my love."

Lhiannon caught Varel's attention and waved him over. Loghain saw him moving toward Lhiannon and quickly rose from his table to join them. "Yes, Commander, what can I do for you?" Varel asked as Loghain appeared at Lhiannon's side.

"Leliana would like to take the Joining," Lhiannon explained. "Can we have a vessel prepared?"

Varel nodded, "I can, but may I suggest performing the ritual away from the prying eyes of the others? Some of those here are not Grey Wardens and may be, unsettled, by the ritual."

Lhiannon nodded, turning toward Leliana and Zevran. "We shall go to Varel's office to perform the ritual. Be there in one hour."

Zevran pulled Leliana to his side and whispered in her ear. Without a word to the others, they quietly left the dining hall, Lhiannon presumed to spend a few quiet moments together before the Joining. She returned to the table, leaning over to inform Alistair and Anora of the upcoming ritual.

"Leliana wishes to take the Joining, Alistair," Lhiannon whispered, her head between Alistair's and Anora's so both could hear. "It will take place in one hour in Varel's office."

Alistair looked to Anora, who nodded in agreement. "I suspected as much when she asked to accompany us here. I will be there."

Lhiannon nodded her agreement before returning to Loghain's side. "Come. We should go to Varel's office and help him prepare," she said quietly, her voice betraying the tension she suddenly felt.

"Do you think she will survive the Joining?" Loghain asked as they walked out of the dining hall toward Varel's office. As they traveled, Lhiannon felt her nerves beginning to tighten and a dull ache appear just above her eyes. Loghain sensed her tension and place a hand on the small of her back as they walked.

"I certainly hope she does, Loghain," Lhiannon sighed. "It would be a shame to lose her." She paused a moment, breathing a heavy, sad sigh. "We became very close after we met in Lothering."

Loghain continued to walk at Lhiannon's side, his arm bringing her closer to offer what comfort he could. "She believes this is what the Maker desires of her, yes?"

"Yes."

"Her faith is strong. If the Maker finds favor with any of his children, He will find it with her."

Lhiannon rested her head against Loghain's shoulder as they walked, wrapping her arm around his waist. "I certainly hope the Maker smiles upon her, Loghain."

* * *

A very long hour passed as Varel, Lhiannon, and Loghain prepared the chalice for the Joining ritual. Alistair had joined them as well after seeing Anora to their guest room. They had decided that Lhiannon would speak the words and she was thinking of what she would say to her dear friend. As she pondered her words, a small knock at the door drew their attention. Varel went to the door and opened it, letting Leliana and Zevran in before closing it once again. Lhiannon noticed that both of her friends looked somber, but resolute.

"Leliana, you can still opt out of the Joining, if you wish," Lhiannon said, coming forward and grasping her friend's hands in her own. "No one will think any less of you. Certainly not I."

Zevran scoffed from beside them. "She is set on her path, my lovely Warden. I have accepted this and will support her."

"This is what I want," Leliana said, squeezing Lhiannon's hands firmly and with conviction. "This is what the Maker wants of me."

"Very well then," Lhiannon said, releasing Leliana's hands and turning toward Varel's desk and the Joining chalice that waited for them. Lhiannon picked it up, smelling the faint odor of corruption swirling about the chalice, making her face grimace slightly. She turned to Zevran. "Grey Wardens generally don't allow outsiders to witness the Joining ceremony."

"I will leave, if you command it, but I ask you to reconsider," Zevran said quietly, his back stiff as he looked at Lhiannon. "I shall take an oath of silence, if you wish. I have never given you reason to doubt my word, Crow I may be." Zevran paused slightly, a corner of his mouth ticking upward slightly before falling again. "Crow that I was. I do not want to leave Leliana's side."

She could see in the elf's eyes that he was determined and adamant. He knew something of the ways of the Grey Wardens, having journeyed with her and Alistair for all those months against the Blight. Much had been withheld from her and Alistair, purposefully or not; she wanted to be more open with those the recruited. "Very well, Zevran," Lhiannon said, holding her shoulders high and speaking to him in a formal tone. "Your oath is accepted. You shall not speak of what you witness here to anyone other than those gathered in this room." Zevran, noticeably relieved, nodded. Lhiannon turned her attention toward Leliana.

"The Grey Wardens are dedicated to protecting the world against the ravages of the darkspawn and the Blight. It is a duty that unites us, both through fellowship and through the taint in our blood. We may be few, but we are strong and it is this strength that guides us through the darkness.

"Join us, my dear friend and sister. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. Should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we shall join you."

Lhiannon held the chalice out to Leliana, who took it and glanced inside at the dark, corrupted contents. She began to recite a passage from the Canticle of Trials. "_Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond, for there is no darkness in the Maker's Light, and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost_."

Leliana brought the chalice to her lips and drank deeply. She stood in place for a moment before her eyes went wide and she doubled over in obvious pain. Zevran reached out and helped Leliana as she began to topple to the ground, writhing in pain and groaning as if she had been run through with a sword. After what seemed like an eternity, she became still as Zevran held her head in his lap. Lhiannon reached down and felt Leliana's neck for a pulse; it was there, strong and steady. She looked up in to Zevran's eyes and smiled.

"She lives."

Zevran nodded, relief clearly on his face. He turned his eyes up toward Lhiannon. "We shall be staying here with you, my friend. I will not take the Joining, but I vow to help you recruit and train new Grey Wardens." He looked down at Leliana, concern and pride in his eyes. "My place is at her side. So, it looks like we are destined for more adventures after all, my lovely Warden," Zevran said, looking up at Lhiannon and winking in his swarthy way.

Lhiannon put a hand on his shoulder and grinned. "Welcome, then, to your new home."

* * *

_Busy, looooong chapter, but we need to start laying some groundwork for the next few chapters...and perhaps beyond. These busy, transitional chapters aren't my favorite to write, but it was necessary._

_Loghain was really tempted to haul Isolde out of her cell and put her on the rack or perhaps into the iron maiden. But, since Isolde is still an Arlessa at this point, torture would likely create more problems than it would solve. He isn't Rendon Howe, you know. ;) I imagine he __got an "I told you so" from Lhi when he returned to their chambers. And why did he not bring up Eamon wanting to supplant Anora with Celene? As of now, Eamon and Isolde don't know that Lhiannon and Loghain have the letters from Ostagar; they plan on using those letters against Eamon later..._

_Now we get to the special "thank yous" part of the program. Thanks to reviewers Shakespira, icey cold, Aura of Darkness Night, Forestnymphe (whose kind words put such a huge smile on my face, I thought it would split in half), TG2000, Gene Dark (who was a reading and reviewing machine!), tgail73, Enaid Aderyn, and Arsinoe. Thank you all! I do have to take a moment for a few extra kudos:_

_Shakespira and icey: without the support and encouragement (and giggles...can't forget those!) of the two of you, RA probably would not have seen the light of day, much less come this far. So, thank you both so much for putting up with me. :)_

_Gene Dark: you've indulged me in one of my favorite DA hobbies...Eamon ______bashing! Gene let me bounce several ideas off her within the last few days, which has got me really excited to begin getting the sequel in order. Thank you so much for allowing me to pick your brain. :)_

_Thanks as always to the readers and lurkers! You all are the best!  
_


	42. The Truth By Any Means Necessary

Lhiannon woke early the next morning, her head buried in the broad expanse of Loghain's chest, breathing deeply of his scent. She listened to his heartbeat for several minutes before wrapping her arms around him. He stirred next to her, opening his eyes and blinking the bleariness away, a hand coming up to brush at his eyes.

"It's morning already?" he groused, turning his head to see the faint daylight coming through the window in their bedchamber.

"Unfortunately, yes," Lhiannon said, her mouth seeking his and placing a light kiss on his soft lips. She felt his lips grin under hers and his arms wrap around her, rolling onto his back with her on top of him. She dropped her head onto his chest, listening to the beating of his heart once again. She never tired of that sound.

"Unfortunate that we cannot linger here," Loghain grumbled, running one of his hands absentmindedly through Lhiannon's long hair. "The others will likely be here today and we will need to prepare."

Lhiannon lifted her head and grinned wolfishly at him, deciding in that moment that she would be the insolent child he had accused her of being on more than one occasion. She lowered her head to Loghain's neck, beginning to run her lips along his sensitive skin. She began at the hollow of his neck and worked her way up along his jaw to his ear. He growled at her as she nibbled on his earlobe; she returned his growl with a low chuckle before returning to the task at hand.

"It is impolite to tease, madam. If your intentions are to have your way with me, you should see to it."

Lhiannon raised her head and met Loghain's gaze with her own. She could see the desire burning in his eyes and could feel his growing arousal pressing against her, stoking the fire within. She sat up and straddled him, whisking her nightdress over her head and tossing it carelessly away. Returning her gaze to his, she saw his eyes lighting over her body, growing heavy lidded with desire as he reached up to stroke her skin. She grinned at him.

"Your Grace, you are terribly overdressed once again. Whatever shall I do with you?"

It only took a moment for Loghain to remedy the situation.

* * *

The snow that had been falling the previous day began to abate and as it did so, Teyrn Fergus Cousland was the first to arrive with his entourage of soldiers. Lhiannon greeted him as he arrived in the audience hall, shaking the snow off of his heavy fur cloak. Two of his guards entered just behind him, standing near the entrance and brushing the snow off themselves as well.

"Welcome to Vigil's Keep, Your Grace," Lhiannon said, holding her hand out to shake his. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Fergus smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "And you, Warden Commander." He looked around the audience hall, noticing the pictures of the scowling Howes looking down on them from between the large bookcases. "I think you may need to do some redecorating, Commander," he grinned. "Those are some rather stern faces looking upon you."

Lhiannon snorted, pointing to a slightly faded spot on the wall near the head of the chamber. "I did take the picture of Rendon Howe down; it's currently buried in a closet in Nathaniel's chambers. It was likely going to have knives thrown at it if it stayed on the wall any longer."

The Teyrn's face darkened. "Nathaniel Howe is here?"

Lhiannon nodded, her brow furrowing slightly at the Teyrn's expression. "Yes, Your Grace. He is a Grey Warden now. A very good one."

"Was he part of his father's betrayal and attack on Highever?" Fergus demanded sharply, his tone implying that he would brook no argument. "If he was, he shall stand trial in my court to answer for his involvement, regardless of our friendship as children."

Lhiannon held up a hand to stop him. "No, Your Grace. Nathaniel was in the Free Marches at the time of the assault on Highever. And, with all due respect, he is a Grey Warden now and under my jurisdiction. I invoked the Right of Conscription on him. Nathaniel is as different from his father as night to day. Where Rendon Howe knew no such thing as honor, Nathaniel does and works very hard to restore honor to the Howe name. I am proud to have him as a Grey Warden."

Fergus scowled, but relented. He knew the Right was undeniable and as such, Nathaniel would be beyond his grasp as Teyrn had he been implicated in the attack at Highever. "Then I will take you at your word, Commander. Nathaniel should consider himself fortunate that he was not part of his father's treachery. It's too bad I wasn't there to help you flay the bastard. I am not one for decorating the walls of my castle with my enemies, but Rendon Howe's treacherous head would have found a home there, where the ravens could pick at it." He paused for a moment before his face lightened slightly. "Have the others arrived for the trial yet?"

"The King and Queen arrived yesterday and are currently in their guest chambers. I am expecting Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan at any time now," Lhiannon said, gesturing toward from the hall and leading the Teyrn to the guest wing, his guards not far behind. "I have your room prepared for you, if you would like to rest for a bit. Your men are more than welcome to stay in the barracks with the Vigil's soldiers."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Commander," Fergus nodded, taking his small pack into his chambers as his guards made ready to stand at their Teyrn's door. As he shut the door behind him, Lhiannon found her feet carrying her toward the Grey Wardens' quarters; she wanted to check on Leliana and see how she was recuperating from her Joining. Zevran had gently carried an unconscious Leliana to their chambers the night before, refusing to leave her side as she experienced her first darkspawn nightmare. Lhiannon had checked on her before she retired for the evening, relieved to see that her friend was resting more comfortably, Zevran holding her hand in both of his. As she arrived at the door to Leliana and Zevran's quarters, she heard Leliana's small giggle and a lusty laugh from Zevran. She raised her hand to knock on the door when she heard a small moan from Leliana. Lhiannon pulled her hand back, giggling to herself; Leliana was clearly feeling better. Best to leave her and Zevran to their own devices for now.

* * *

Loghain was in his office, scowling at the never ending pile of paperwork before him; Lhiannon had promised that Aura would be helping keep the books and would eventually free Loghain of some paperwork. That day could not come soon enough, in his opinion; he was starting to develop a new callus on his writing hand from holding a quill so much. _A callus from writing…Maker's breath I need to get out of this damned office._

A knock at his door drew his attention away from the hated paperwork. He looked up to see Lhiannon standing in the doorway and grinning, no doubt at the scowl he had on his face over having to toil on paperwork. She had chosen a simple gown of dark blue today, several small braids at her temples while the rest of her hair flowed free. Loghain was reminded of the dress she wore to the coronation ball and how beautiful she had looked in it; and, of course, how it looked as it lay in a haphazard pile on his bedchamber floor, a carelessly discarded victim of their newly awakened passion. She walked over to him and he watched as the skirt of her gown flowed about her body with the movement of her hips. He pushed his chair back from the desk, pulling her onto his lap. He was also dressed in fine clothes today, a tunic of dark green with gold trim and black pants tucked into his high boots. Lhiannon wrapped an arm around his neck, settling her head onto his shoulder and beginning to trace patterns on his chest with her finger.

"I take it some of the guests have arrived?" Loghain asked, placing a hand on Lhiannon's thigh. He felt her head nod on his shoulder. "Yes, Teyrn Fergus Cousland has just arrived. He's in his guest chambers resting for the time being."

"So Eamon and Teagan are not here yet? Hopefully they will arrive soon and we can get this circus out of our hair," Loghain groused. He began gently stroking Lhiannon's thigh, his hand creating a light rustling sound on the fabric. "Is Leliana recuperating well?"

Lhiannon giggled, raising her head. She reached up and gently brushed his braid aside, giving Loghain a gentle kiss on his smooth cheek. "I did try to check on her, but let's just say that she and Zevran were busy."

"That would be a 'yes', then," Loghain scoffed, turning to capture Lhiannon's lips in his own, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek. His kiss was light and sweet on Lhiannon's lips. She sighed in contentment, resting her head once again on his shoulder. Loghain reached for her hand wearing the band he had given her, running his forefinger and thumb over the smooth metal, mesmerized by the swirling blue hue.

"You know, I never thought that marriage would happen to me," Lhiannon said; Loghain could hear the smile in her voice as he continued to gaze at the metal. "The Chantry and the Circle strongly discouraged it; I think they didn't want us to pass on our 'evil' abilities to our children. I think that they hoped by discouraging marriage and children, mages would eventually die out." She snorted indignantly, shaking her head slightly. "Good luck with that."

"I thought that marriage was beyond me as well," Loghain agreed, continuing to run his fingers over the silverite band. "However, I've always believed that fate and the Maker have a sense of humor," Loghain said, tangling his fingers within hers. "Are we not proof of that?"

Lhiannon laughed, gently squeezing the hand that held hers. "Indeed." She sighed wistfully after a moment. "Do you think we will ever have time to ourselves for a few days without having to put out fires? Just you and I? Perhaps _before_ our wedding and holiday?" she asked him, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger, watching as the blue of her engagement band swirled and danced.

"Perhaps," Loghain sighed. "I look forward to it."

As if on cue, Varel arrived at Loghain's door, knocking on the doorjamb to get their attention. He grinned to himself at the sight of Lhiannon and Loghain having a private moment and was dismayed that he had to interrupt it. They had so few moments together without the burdens and responsibilities they both had, and here he was, needing to interrupt such a one with the business at hand.

"Commander. Warden. Riders bearing the standards of Redcliffe and Rainesfere have just entered the Vigil's gates."

Lhiannon sighed, pulling herself up off Loghain's lap. She smoothed her dress as Loghain stood beside her, likewise smoothing his tunic and pants. "Lead the way to the audience hall, Varel," Lhiannon said, turning to Loghain. "Your circus is about to begin."

* * *

"This session of high justice is called to order," Varel intoned, thumping the ceremonial staff on the floor three times. Two scribes were nearby, furiously taking notes of the proceedings. "This session is to determine the guilt or innocence of Arlessa Isolde Guerein of the charges levied against her by the Crown, the Arling of Amaranthine, and Teyrnir of Gwaren."

King Alistair was seated in a chair at the front of the audience hall, the very chair Lhiannon would use in her own sessions of court. A second chair was brought in for Queen Anora, who sat at her husband's side, her skin radiant with her pregnancy. Isolde was seated in a chair on the audience hall floor to Alistair's left, her hands manacled in front of her and a short chain connecting the manacles on her ankles. Lhiannon sat in a chair on the floor to the king's right, directly opposite Isolde, who was pointedly looking at anything but the Warden Commander.

Several chairs had been brought into the audience hall for the proceedings. Teyrns Loghain and Fergus sat in a row along with Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan. The Grey Wardens, all dressed in their Warden armor or robes save for Leliana, stood along one wall, silently watching the proceedings.

Lhiannon had sent Garavel to the dungeons to bring Tomas in for his testimony. They were waiting in a small study around the corner from the audience hall. A number of guards from Vigil's Keep, as well as those brought by their guests, stood just outside the audience chamber, lining the hallway beyond.

"Arlessa Isolde Guerein, you are accused of the attempted assassination of the Arlessa of Amaranthine and Warden Commander of Ferelden," Alistair said in a flat tone, looking toward Isolde with a stony expression. "You are also accused of conspiracy against the Arlessa of Amaranthine and Warden Commander, as well as conspiracy against the Teyrnir of Gwaren."

Isolde turned to look at the King, her eyes narrowed and a snarl on her face. "I protest you hearing the charges against me, _Your Majesty_." Heads quickly turned to regard Isolde and a shocked murmur could be heard from somewhere within the hall.

"And just why is that?" Alistair asked indignantly, folding his hands across his chest. "I am the King. This certainly falls under my jurisdiction."

"And you clearly have a bias against me," Isolde spat, narrowing her eyes at the King even further. "You and I did not get along when you were a child. It is clear that neither one of us likes the other. Therefore, you are biased and your judgment suspect."

"I agree," came the firm reply from Arl Eamon, who rose from his chair as he spoke. Lhiannon looked at him with hard eyes and saw that Loghain was glaring at Eamon with thinly veiled contempt. "You and Isolde have never seen eye to eye, and I would see her have a fair trial. You cannot provide that, Your Majesty."

Lhiannon kept her face stony to hide the shock she was feeling. _Backstabbing son of a bitch_, she thought. _It's not like you did much to try and encourage the two of them to get along. Her suspicion and hatred of a little boy is what drove you to dump him into the tender mercies of the Chantry until you saw fit to use him. How Alistair could have looked on you favorably is beyond my comprehension._

Varel quietly stepped forward, positioning himself between the King and Queen to whisper into the King's ear. "Your Majesty, I'm afraid the Arl and Arlessa have a point. It may be best for someone else to pass judgment." Varel turned his head slightly so that the Queen could also hear him. "Passing this burden could avoid problems with other nobles later; you know what a fickle bunch they can be, especially those in the Bannorn."

Alistair turned to regard Varel. "You are honest to a fault, man. It's no wonder Lhiannon values you and your skills so highly." Alistair turned to regard both Eamon and Isolde. "Then if I am to forego passing judgment here, the duty falls to the Queen."

Eamon shook his head vehemently. "No, Your Majesty. She, too, is biased. Her father is a material witness to this proceeding." Lhiannon watched as Anora shot a withering glance at the Arl. If her gaze could have done damage, the Arl would have found himself in considerable pain. Loghain continued to glare at the Arl with an icy, contemptuous stare.

"In cases then where the King and Queen are unable to hear the allegations against the accused, the duty would fall to the Teyrns of Ferelden," Varel stated to the crowd. "We know Teyrn Loghain cannot preside as he is a material witness." Varel looked to Fergus. "The responsibility falls to you, Teyrn Fergus Cousland of Highever. Will you hear the charges against the Arlessa of Redcliffe?"

Fergus nodded gravely, looking toward the King. "I will. As I have little knowledge of the specifics involved in this matter, I believe I can come to a just decision."

Varel turned to regard both Isolde and Eamon. "Is this agreeable to you?" Isolde gave little more than a curt nod while Eamon voiced his agreement. Loghain glared at Eamon for a moment longer before turning his attention back to Alistair.

"Then let the evidence against the Arlessa of Redcliffe be brought forward," Alistair said, motioning to Varel to begin.

"We first bring forward Ser Tomas of Redcliffe," Varel called out, moving to the door and calling for the guards to bring Tomas in. A moment later they heard the rustle of chains as Tomas was brought into the audience chamber, his hands manacled before him and a short chain between his ankles. He was brought before Fergus, where he bowed his head respectfully to the Teyrn.

"What do you have to say in this matter?" Fergus asked, settling into his chair and bringing a leg to rest on the opposite knee. "Tell me how it is you have come before us in chains."

"I was approached by a man and shrouded woman, telling me that the Arlessa of Amaranthine was ruling her lands with blood magic," Tomas began, his eyes looking directly in to Fergus' and his voice confident. "They told me that the Maker would hurt my unborn child if I did not help them. 'Magic is to serve and never rule', they told me."

Fergus nodded solemnly. "I see. Can you identify any of those individuals here today?"

Tomas shook his head. "One of them was Ser Temmerly, who I met in Redcliffe. As I said before, the woman was shrouded and never spoke."

"Where is Ser Temmerly now?" Fergus asked, turning his attention toward Varel. "Temmerly was killed in this very hall in a separate attempt to assassinate the Warden Commander," Varel explained. "A group of disaffected nobles, lead by the late Bann Esmerelle, arrived here seeking revenge on the Warden Commander for the death of Rendon Howe."

"I see," Fergus said slowly, his gaze darkening at the mention of Rendon Howe's scandalous name. He quickly returned his attention to Tomas and resumed his questioning. "And what of your capture?" Fergus asked, drumming his fingers on his knee as he spoke to Tomas. "How did that come about?"

Tomas held the Teyrn's gaze. "I was called to a meeting at the abandoned Stark farm here in Amaranthine. The Grey Wardens came to apprehend us but we resisted. I was captured along with Lord Guy of Amaranthine."

Fergus looked toward Varel once more, his hand held in front of him bidding Tomas to wait. "Lord Guy, he is the one that was executed for attempted murder, yes?'

"Yes, Your Grace," Varel confirmed.

Fergus turned his attention back to Tomas. "If Guy was your accomplice at the farm when you fought the Grey Wardens, why then were you not executed?"

"I was promised mercy for telling the Arlessa everything I knew about the conspirators plotting against her. I was promised exile in exchange for solid information." Tomas flicked his gaze between Eamon and Lhiannon. "The Commander and I met during the Blight, when Arl Eamon was incapacitated and Redcliffe overrun with undead. We fought at each other's side during the battle to save Redcliffe."

Fergus turned toward Lhiannon, his brow raised. "What are your intentions with Tomas now, Commander?"

"I will not go back on my word, Your Grace," she said, looking at Tomas and giving him a small nod. "He has been cooperative with us and has given us valuable information. We would not be here today if not for him. He will be freed and sent into exile, as was promised."

Fergus nodded, looking toward Varel, who had raised his hand for the Teyrn's attention. "Your Grace," Varel called out. "We have the clothing that the Arlessa of Redcliffe was wearing when she was apprehended."

Fergus waved Varel forward. "Then bring the clothing." Varel reached into a pack he held at his side, drawing out a dark tunic, leggings, and face covering. As Varel held them up, all could see that they were cut for a woman's shape. Teyrn Fergus pointed at them, turning to Tomas. "Can you identify this clothing?"

Tomas nodded emphatically. "Yes, Your Grace. That is the clothing the contact in Redcliffe wore."

Fergus looked at Isolde. "These are your garments?" Isolde stared straight ahead, saying nothing and wearing a defiant expression. "Madam, I command you to answer," Fergus demanded, irritation in his voice.

"No. That is clothing that can be bought in any fine clothing store," Isolde retorted, her eyes narrowing at the Teyrn.

"A number of witnesses have seen you in this attire," Varel began, pointing at the garments. "Including your own husband, Captain Garavel of the Vigil's Keep guard, and three Grey Wardens."

Isolde turned her head away from Varel, looking off to the side with an angry scowl. "They are mistaken."

"All of them?" Fergus asked, narrowing his eyes at Isolde. "They are _all_ mistaken?"

"Yes."

* * *

Velanna stood among the Grey Wardens against the wall, observing the proceedings with growing contempt. Isolde was lying, that much was clear by the way she held her body, let alone the words coming out of the shemlen's mouth. If there was anything Velanna could not abide, it was dishonesty. Velanna knew that most individuals, even her fellow elves, saw her as abrasive and abrupt; but if there was one thing most could agree on, it would be that she was honest, sometimes brutally so. That Isolde came to these solemn proceedings and spouted her lies spoke to Velanna of how truly despicable the Arlessa was. Something had to be done.

Velanna turned toward Jowan, who stood next to her watching the proceedings with a degree of discomfort. He was certain some of the things he had done to the Arlessa and her family played a large role in how she ended up before this court today; the guilt twisted his stomach into knots. She had only looked in his direction once today, but the look she shot him was full of such hatred and vitriol that it startled him. Even so, trying to assassinate his friend and destabilize Amaranthine put a cap on just how uncomfortable and guilty he may have felt. What he did was wrong; he regret what he did every day and likely would until his Calling came, but her actions were also wrong, and as the Chantry was fond to say, two wrongs did not make a right.

"This is wrong."

Jowan turned to see Velanna leaning toward him, speaking quietly into his ear. His brows furrowed in questioning. "What is?"

Velanna jutted her chin toward the chair where Isolde sat, a scowl crossing her face. "That she sits there and lies to this court."

"Of course it isn't right, Velanna," Jowan scoffed. "But there's nothing that can be done. We have to hope the evidence refutes her claims and that the Teyrn of Highever sees through her duplicity."

"We can make her tell the truth," Velanna said, her voice low and deadly serious.

Jowan turned his head to look fully at the elf, who was glaring intently at the Arlessa. His eyes narrowed, then suddenly went wide with recognition. "Velanna, you can't be serious."

The elf turned her withering gaze on Jowan, irritated by his doubtfulness. "I am very serious, Jowan. It _can_ work."

"Velanna, Lhiannon will kill us if she senses it. And if she doesn't, Anders certainly will; he's standing practically on top of us."

The elf shook her head. "No. If we keep the power of the spell low enough, neither one will sense it. Anders, from what I have learned, has never used blood magic, so he likely won't sense a low power spell," Velanna insisted. "We need not completely control her or compel her, just exert enough influence for her to want to tell the truth."

Jowan sighed, knowing that diverting Velanna from her course would be difficult, at best. Once Velanna's mind was set, trying to stop her was a lesson in futility. Jowan knew there would be no dissuading Velanna...and she did have a point. Isolde had to be brought to justice for what she had done. "Maker help me, I'm going to regret this. How do you suggest we do it?"

Velanna leaned closer to Jowan's ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "I will cast the spell; if we are caught, they will believe it more of me. I will have to use your blood to fuel the spell."

"My blood?" Jowan asked indignantly. "Just how are we do do that?"

"Yes, your blood, Creators help me," Velanna hissed, nearly loud enough to draw attention. "I have to concentrate on the casting. If we are caught, I can say that you weren't aware of it, since it was so little that was drawn." She paused a moment, thinking. "Besides, it will give you an out if we are caught."

Jowan sighed; Velanna's argument had merit; tenuous at best, but merit nonetheless. "All right, Velanna. Do it."

Velanna gave Jowan a curt nod. "Stand at attention with your hands behind your back. Do you have a small wound on your hand?"

"Yes, I have the most awful hangnail that has been driving me crazy..."

"Jowan!" Velanna hissed angrily. "By the Creators, just get it bleeding."

Jowan clasped his hands behind his back, scratching at the small wound with a fingernail until he felt the sticky wetness of blood on his finger. He nodded once at Velanna and watched as her hands began to move slowly behind her back. Jowan felt the spell's gentle pull on his blood; Velanna was keeping the power very low, as promised. Jowan glanced toward Anders, who had been watching the proceedings with interest. He did not move and gave no indication that he sensed anything amiss. Jowan then turned his gaze to Lhiannon, who had been watching Isolde carefully and intently. She also did not make a move. Jowan leaned to Velanna. "I think you're good," he said, and the elf gave him a curt nod. They watched as Isolde reached up and rubbed her temple, grimacing as if she had a headache. When the question was put forth to her again about the clothing that she was apprehended in, she sighed angrily and spat out an answer at the Teyrn of Highever.

"Andraste's mercy! Yes, the clothes are mine! I wore them when I met with Ser Tomas."

Velanna's face suddenly bloomed in a small, triumphant smile.

* * *

_You just knew Velanna would be up to no good with Blood Magic. Jowan was a fool to even let her talk him into teaching her.  
_

_I had to split this chapter and the next into two separate ones; the chapter was getting ridiculously long for my liking. So, part two should be up in a couple of days (after I go through it with a fine toothed comb that is). The entire chapter has been mostly written for about two months, so I had to go back and review things to make sure they were to my liking (and as right as I could get them).  
_

_Special thanks to my reviewers: Shakespira, icey (there you go, making me giggle again), Arsinoe, Gene, Kira Tamarion (another Michigander! __Go Wings! __Go Tigers! Go Pistons! Go...Lions? Uh, not quite ready to jump on THAT bandwagon yet), and Aura of Darkness Night (who told me how she REALLY feels about Leliana). As always, your feedback and encouragement are most welcome and appreciated.  
_

_Thanks as always to you readers and lurkers, and those who bookmark and favorite the story. I'm amazed that I still get them! Each one puts a smile on my face.  
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_You're not seeing things...that's a new avatar next to my name. If we were traipsing about Ferelden and ended up at the Gnawed Noble for a pint, that's what I would look like.  
_

_The sequel to RA is well into the planning stages and I hope to begin writing it in earnest before RA ends. I already began chapter 1, so I guess it's official now. Maker help me, as our heroes would say, I hope I can keep it going. :) I am always open to ideas so if you have something you're curious about or would like to see, let me know. I appreciate everyone's input!  
_


	43. The Teyrn's Verdict

Lhiannon nearly fell out of her chair in disbelief. Isolde actually admitted the clothes were hers; she even did it without too much pressure from Fergus. With how the conversation started, she was somewhat surprised Isolde caved in so quickly. The woman was nothing if not haughty, defiant, and proud. That Isolde had an apparent change of heart all but shocked Lhiannon into stunned silence. As she pondered Isolde's words and change in demeanor, Varel came forward with the letters from Tomas and the blank parchment Teagan had found in the Arl and Arlessa's office. He handed them to Fergus, pointing out certain telltale features.

"Your Grace, these are the letters Tomas received from his contact, who Isolde has admitted was her," he said, pointing to the altered embossing and the identical flaw in the blank and written pages. "You can see here where the embossing was altered in an attempt to make it unreadable." Varel pointed to the flaws in the parchment. "And see here the flaw in both the letters and in the blank sheet Teagan found."

Fergus turned to look beside him, finding the Bann's gaze. "Bann Teagan, step forward."

Teagan rose from his chair, coming to stand in front of the young teyrn and bowing at the waist. "Your Grace," he stated, meeting Fergus' gaze with his calm demeanor. "What do you wish to know?"

"You found these in Isolde's possession?" Fergus asked, indicating the parchment with his hand. He held up one of the written notes beside the blank page smudged with coal, the page revealing the impressions of handwriting that closely resembled the written document. Fergus could see familiarities with the writing on the letter and what was revealed on the blank page. "I can clearly see where the handwriting on the two pieces of paper is similar."

"Yes, Your Grace," Teagan nodded. "The blank sheet was in the private office of the Arl and Arlessa."

Fergus examined the papers for another minute before handing them back to Varel. The Teyrn then turned back toward the Bann. "Did she give these pages to you, or did you take them without her knowledge?"

Teagan continued to look the Teyrn in the eye, nonplussed by the question. "I took them, Your Grace. Her quill had been writing strangely and she discarded the first piece of paper she wrote on. She was called out of her office for a moment and when she left, I took the discarded paper and a blank sheet."

"Thank you, Bann Teagan." Fergus nodded, taking note of Teagan's admission before turning to Loghain. "Teyrn Loghain, you have a record of the testimony of your vassal Bann Ceorlic?"

Loghain nodded, producing a sealed parchment from a small pack he held. He saw no need for that lickspittle Ceorlic to travel to Amaranthine; Loghain had seen enough of him in Gwaren. Loghain also did not trust Ceorlic to run right from these proceedings and tell everyone he knew about what happened here, had Loghain bid him to come. Gossip needed to be kept at a minimum and Ceorlic was the kind of man that enjoyed being the center of attention; he would have found these proceedings an excellent conversation piece to flatter his own self-important ego. The sealed testimony from Loghain's own court would suffice. "I do," he replied confidently. "This is an exact duplicate of the testimony on file in Denerim and in my own vault in Gwaren. I have also included the testimony of the other vassals who were contacted." Rising from where he was seated, he took the parchment to Fergus, who broke the seal and began to read.

"Let me save you some time," Isolde snapped irritably from where she sat, still rubbing her temple as if her head were pounding. "I paid for a man to go to Gwaren and speak with Loghain's vassals about the odds of starting a rebellion there. A few of them were more than willing to entertain the notion."

Lhiannon stared at Isolde, not believing what she was hearing. Had Isolde decided to come clean with her actions, hoping for mercy from Fergus? Did Loghain's words to her actually cause her to reconsider her lack of cooperation? This was so unlike Isolde...

And then she caught it, almost too subtle to be felt: the faint sense of blood and magic mixing in the air. Had she not used blood magic that one and only time, she likely would have missed it. However, since she had a small amount of experience with blood magic, she could sense its distinct energies in the room. She raised her chin slightly and inhaled slowly and deeply through her nose, as if testing the air currents. She turned her head slightly, letting her eyes follow the unseen yet glaring path of the magic as the Teyrn of Highever called Sigrun forward. The path Lhiannon sensed led directly to where the other Grey Wardens stood.

* * *

Jowan was starting to feel slightly lightheaded from Velanna's magic, the gentle tug on his blood continuing. He cast a small healing spell on himself, keeping the power down low so that the other mages would not sense it. Several minutes had passed after his spell ended when Jowan noticed a slight shift in Lhiannon's demeanor. She looked like a predator sensing prey on the wind.

"Uh oh," Jowan murmured, noting the subtle movement he had just seen from Lhiannon. He waited until Lhiannon's attention was back on Fergus and Sigrun before turning his head slightly toward Velanna and whispering her name.

The elf flicked her eyes in his direction, quickly returning them to Isolde and her concentration on the blood magic spell, her hands continuing to move slowly and sinuously behind her. Jowan turned his head toward her again. "Velanna. Lhiannon senses something."

"Yes, I see that," Velanna hissed quietly, continuing to keep her concentration on Isolde. "I can't keep the power of the spell much lower; it will cease to work."

"Maybe you should stop it," Jowan suggested, keeping his gaze turned toward the proceedings. "Isolde has already admitted the clothes were hers and that she contracted the individuals to go to Gwaren to disrupt things there. There has to be enough evidence against her now."

Velanna glanced at Jowan, her strange eyes glaring angrily at him. "No, we can't stop until this is over. We need to make sure Isolde comes to justice. Now, stop bothering me and let me concentrate."

* * *

"Warden Sigrun," Teyrn Fergus said as the dwarf stood before him, "you witnessed a shrouded individual, whom you claim was Arlessa Isolde, brandishing a knife at the Warden Commander as she slept, yes? That the person with the knife swung it at the Commander?"

"That's right," Sigrun said cheerfully, giving the Teyrn a bright smile. "She crept into our bedroom, all dressed up in that fancy outfit and shroud. I watched her approach the Commander from the shadows as she laid in bed."

"And then what did you do?" Fergus asked.

"I saw the Commander throw up a small ball of light and roll out of the way as the attacker swung her dagger. I grabbed the attacker around the waist and wrestled her to the ground like a greased up nug at a holiday festival," Sigrun grinned; she was proud of the role she played in capturing Isolde. "I sat on her until the others arrived."

Fergus turned once more toward Lhiannon. "Warden Commander, you saw the shrouded woman attack you, yes?"

Lhiannon nodded once. "Yes, Your Grace. She tried to stab me as I lay in bed; I rolled out of the way before she could land her dagger. After Sigrun tackled her to the ground, Captain Garavel and Warden Nathaniel came into the room when they heard the commotion. Two Redcliffe guards came in as well. We strongly suspected that it was the Arlessa, so I bade the Redcliffe guards to get their Arl immediately. When he arrived, we removed the shroud to reveal the face of Arlessa Isolde."

Fergus turned to Arl Eamon. "You were there when the Arlessa's identity was confirmed?"

Eamon sighed heavily, nodding sadly. "I was, Your Grace."

"And did you know that the Arlessa had intended such an act?" Fergus asked, his eyes narrowing slightly at the Arl.

Eamon held his chin high, his expression hard and defiant. "I knew of no such thing," he stated firmly. "With all due respect, Your Grace, I will not answer any further questions about my wife."

Lhiannon nearly burst from her chair, but Sigrun beat her to it. The dwarf pointed at the Arl angrily. "He's lying, Your Grace! He said he knew about it right in front of all of us!"

Fergus held up his hand, giving Sigrun a firm stare. "Warden Sigrun, I'll ask you not to disrupt the proceedings with such outbursts." Sigrun dropped her eyes from the Teyrn's face as Fergus turned toward Arl Eamon. "That is your right, however I would ask that you answer questions about other subjects I may put to you." Fergus then turned his gaze to Lhiannon. "Did you hear the Arlessa say such a thing?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Lhiannon nodded, still feeling the slight presence of blood magic in the air. She had narrowed it down to either Velanna or Jowan and had to fight to keep her concentration on the proceedings and not on how she wanted to take them both out behind the Vigil and flog them. "There were a number of witnesses there when the Arl admitted that he knew of Isolde's unhappiness with Grey Warden Jowan's Joining and that he didn't think she would go through with the plan against me."

"Who else was with you?" Fergus asked.

Lhiannon began to turn to each witness. "Bann Teagan. Arl Eamon. Captain Garavel. Wardens Sigrun and Nathaniel. Several guards, both from Vigil's Keep and Redcliffe." The Teyrn asked each of the men if Isolde was they person they saw Sigrun holding down as the shroud was removed from her face; each man responded in the affirmative.

Fergus turned his attention to Isolde once again. "All these people have said that the Arl knew of your desire to kill the Warden Commander. Is this true?"

Isolde looked at all the faces staring at her, waiting for her response. She felt the need to tell the truth, a whisper in her mind telling her that the truth was the best course of action, despite what she had told herself she would do right up until these proceedings began. Perhaps it was the quiet voice of the Maker, encouraging her to be truthful as her way to do His will. One half of her raged, telling her not to cooperate; however, that small voice inside her head was persuasive, caressing her mind like soft silk, whispering encouragement to tell the truth.

"Yes."

A hush descended over the gathered crowd; nothing was said for several minutes, but Lhiannon could see the Teyrn of Highever considering the proceedings carefully. After the period of brief silence, Fergus stood and faced Varel. "I would like some time to go over the evidence that was presented here today. We shall reconvene in one hour." With that, Varel led the Teyrn out of the audience hall and toward his guest chambers. Guards entered the hall and flanked Isolde, keeping her under their watchful eye as the brief recess began. Eamon moved toward his wife to speak with her quietly while they waited for Fergus' return.

Lhiannon rose from where she sat, moving calmly over to where the Grey Wardens stood in a loose configuration, chatting amongst themselves. Her calm demeanor hid a roiling anger beneath it; Loghain could see it in the way Lhiannon walked and held herself. He rose from his own chair and followed behind her to where the other Wardens stood. He reached her side as she stood among the Grey Wardens, chatting with them for a moment before turning an icy glare toward two of the mages.

"Velanna. Jowan. You will accompany me to my office. _Now_," she hissed quietly at them, her voice low so that the others would not overhear. Loghain watched as Jowan's eyes briefly widened and his skin blanched. Velanna's face remained stoically calm as they followed Lhiannon toward her office. Loghain fell into step behind them. Not a word was spoken as the small group walked the halls.

When they reached Lhiannon's office, she opened the door and beckoned the mages inside with a sharp flick of her hand. She saw Loghain behind them as they entered. "Do you need me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, come in and bar the door behind you," Lhiannon growled quietly. Velanna and Jowan stood inside her office, their hands clasped behind their backs and watching Lhiannon warily. Loghain shut and barred the door, turning in time to see Lhiannon whirl about and give both mages a withering stare, her fists clenched so hard Loghain could see them shaking. Even Velanna looked startled at the anger in Lhiannon's eyes.

"Who did it?" she barked sharply, watching both Velanna and Jowan closely. They stood there awkwardly, eyes flicking to each other before Lhiannon slammed her hand down on the desk, the sharp noise making both of them flinch. "_Answer me_, Maker damn you both. Which of you used blood control?"

Velanna held her chin high, a look of willful defiance crossing her features. "It was I, Commander. I did it. I used Jowan's blood. He didn't know I was doing it…"

"No, Velanna," Jowan sighed, shaking his head slowly. "Don't lie for me." Jowan turned to look Lhiannon in the eye, his expression full of shame. He averted his gaze after a moment, unable to look at his friend and the anger and disappointment reflected in her eyes. "I allowed her to use my blood."

Loghain watched as Lhiannon's cheeks flushed bright red, the depth of her anger plain for all to see. Lhiannon glared at the mages; Loghain could feel the anger building within her as the moments passed. "What were you thinking?" she hissed, her fists clenched in fury as she stared down the mages. She could feel her fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palms, the sensation the only thing keeping her from lashing out at both mages in her rage. "Do you know what will happen if Teyrn Fergus were to learn of this? He could dismiss _everything_ against Isolde. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you both into the Deep Roads this very instant."

"She was lying," Velanna spat with exasperation, two small patches of red blooming on her fair cheeks. "I could not stand there and watch her lie to the Teyrn and this court. She _deserves_ justice. I only put a small suggestion into her; that she _wanted_ to tell the truth. I did not compel her."

Jowan stood mute, his eyes downcast under the withering gaze of Lhiannon and Loghain. Guilt welled up inside him, twisting his stomach into knots. At one time, he thought blood magic was simply a piece of a whole, another facet of magic worth exploring. While some mages, like Lhiannon, could control the desire to use blood magic, it became clear to Jowan that other mages did not have, or desire, such control. Now that Velanna knew blood magic, she would use it as she saw fit, regardless of the consequences. _And it's all my fault_, Jowan thought miserably.

"While Isolde does deserve justice, that was not the way to ensure it," Loghain said angrily, closing the distance between him and Velanna, glaring angrily into the elf's strange eyes. "Both of you have endangered these entire proceedings with your foolishness."

"It was not foolish," Velanna began, her voice hard and defiant. "It was necessary that she told the truth..."

Loghain made a slashing gesture in the air with his hand, stopping Velanna before she could continue. "It most certainly _was_ foolish," Loghain snarled, causing the elf to take a half step back from where he towered over her. "One would think that, as the first to your clan's Keeper, you would have better sense about the appropriateness of magic and its uses. But perhaps I am mistaken in that assessment. You acted like little more than an apprentice who learned a new spell; so anxious to try it without care for the ramifications. It is individuals like you who propagate the negative stereotypes of mages. You _act_ before you _think_."

The elf glared at Loghain, her strange eyes conveying a deep anger and resentment at Loghain's words. How dare he question this? The truth had to be told; if Isolde was not brought to justice, she would continue to threaten the Commander and the Teyrn with her schemes. Velanna _knew _that it had been the right thing to do and why the Commander and Loghain could not understand that was beyond her.

Lhiannon turned from the mages, walking stiffly over to the window and glaring outside. Loghain saw the stiff way she held her shoulders and how her hands were still clenched into angry fists. Her anger roiled through the taint, a nearly tangible presence in the room. Beneath her anger, Loghain could feel a sense of guilt within her. _Whatever for_, he thought to himself. Lhiannon gazed out the window into the courtyard; in the reflection of the glass she could see her eyes burning with anger.

"Clearly, I did not stress enough to the both of you just how much I disdain the use of blood magic except for in the most _extreme_ of circumstances…"

"But this _was_ extreme!" Velanna protested angrily, pointing toward the door. "That shemlen sat there…"

"_Enough_!" Lhiannon roared, whirling about from the window with a gaze that caused the elf to take a step back. Lhiannon marched across the room from where she stood at the window, coming to stop in front of the mages, her and Loghain standing before them as a united front. "This was _not _a situation that required the use of blood magic. If I could rip the knowledge out of your skulls, I would, even if it left you both drooling, mindless fools!" Lhiannon paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, trying to will her rage away; it hardly worked. She had just opened her mouth to speak when Loghain held up a hand, beckoning for her attention.

"Commander," Loghain said from at Lhiannon's side. "A word with you in private."

Lhiannon gave Loghain a curt nod, keeping her gaze on both Jowan and Velanna. "The two of you will stay here. Do not even _think_ of leaving until I have dismissed you." She walked around the mages, Loghain close behind as she strode to their private chambers. They entered their living area, keeping the door open so that they could observe the outer door, making sure neither Jowan nor Velanna left. Loghain leaned close to Lhiannon as she stopped to regard him, speaking low so the mages in the outer room would not overhear him. "If Teyrn Fergus finds out about the suggestion Velanna put into Isolde, no matter how minor, he will dismiss the charges against Isolde and set her free."

"I know," Lhiannon agreed, rubbing her forehead with her hand and squinting, an intense headache blooming behind her eyes. "There is probably enough evidence to convict her, but the blood magic throws everything into doubt."

"If Isolde were to be set free, she and Eamon would most likely gather allies against you," Loghain stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "I would not put it past that ridiculous bitch to try and have another attempt made on your life." Loghain's gaze grew hard, his fists clenching as he dropped his arms from across his chest. "I will not stand idly by while she continues to spin her web."

"What do you suggest then? Not telling the Teyrn?" Lhiannon whispered, glancing through the door into her office. Velanna and Jowan were where they left them, standing near her desk and looking about the room. Jowan looked like he wanted to find the nearest rock and crawl under it; Velanna looked bored and irritated with the whole affair.

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting."

With a heavy sigh, Lhiannon turned and walked toward the fireplace in her living quarters, leaning up against the mantle as she pondered the situation. As much as the thought disgusted her, Loghain had a point, and he had far more experience in dealing with the nobility and their fickleness than she had. If Fergus knew about what happened, Isolde would likely be set free. She could be retried, but that would take time. In that time, she could find ways to discount all the evidence against her, no matter how strong it was. As it stood now, there was likely enough evidence to convict Isolde without her testimony, but it was no guarantee without her confessions. Lhiannon felt trapped, forced to choose between the lesser of two evils; one option was telling the Teyrn about the blood magic and having to start all over again with the trial against Isolde, with no assurance she would be brought to justice. The other option was to not tell the Teyrn and let the trial continue, likely convicting Isolde of what she had been accused of. Lhiannon scoffed in her anger; sending the two blood mages to the Deep Roads was looking more and more attractive.

"And what do we do with _them_ when we go back into the audience hall?" Lhiannon asked, turning from the mantle and motioning to the mages in the outer office. "We really can't ban them from the room; it would be noticed."

Loghain thought for a moment, his hand rubbing his chin as he did so. "Let them come, but have them stand apart from each other and in our direct sight. We will be able to see if they try to cast." He paused briefly, a small sneer crossing his features. "I am not worried about Jowan; he is already quivering in fear of the both of us. It is Velanna I am more concerned about."

"Then Velanna stands in direct sight of both of us." Lhiannon suddenly slammed her fist into her other hand, snarling in rage at the thought of the elf. "If I could rip the knowledge out of her skull, I would with my bare hands."

"Be assured that I would help," Loghain said, drawing closer to where Lhiannon stood. He looked into her eyes, seeing the dark expression on her face and feeling her warring emotions through the taint. She pinched the bridge of her nose, squinting once again at the ache in her head. "There are times I hate command, Loghain. I always hated the way the nobles played their games, but here I am, forced to play along by a short sighted elf, an impressionable human, and an Arlessa who wants to see me dead." She shook her head, setting her shoulders and jaw as she looked up at Loghain. "Still, if it comes down to protecting myself, the Grey Wardens, the Arling, and Ferelden, I'll do what I must. Isolde cannot be allowed to play her grand game any longer."

Lhiannon turned toward the door to her office, Loghain right behind her. Jowan and Velanna looked toward them as they entered the room, straightening themselves for what Lhiannon and Loghain had discussed. Lhiannon felt the rage blossom to life once again as she looked at the wayward mages.

"Once this session of court is concluded, the two of you will be confined to quarters," Lhiannon began, her voice low and quivering in her anger. "The Vigil's servants will bring you your meals. The two of you will submit to punishment; I will need to discuss just what with Loghain and Varel." Lhiannon watched as righteous anger crossed Velanna's face while guilt and revulsion crossed Jowan's. "Now, get out of my sight before I send you both into the Deep Roads," she snarled at them, waving them toward the door. "You can both practice your blood magic there to your heart's content and not harm anyone else with your foolishness." Velanna quickly exited with a huff of indignation; Jowan paused and turned toward Lhiannon.

"Lhi?" he asked quietly, nervousness in his voice.

"What?" she snapped, her voice hard. She could not even look at him, her anger so great she could barely see straight.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you," Jowan said, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"I'm sorry too," Lhiannon whispered, brushing an angry, disappointed tear from her eye. Jowan quietly slipped from the room as she brought a hand up to her forehead, trying to will the throbbing in her skull away. She sensed Loghain come to stand before her and she lowered her hand to look up at him. His face was grim, but he nodded to her slowly. "You did what you had to," he said, gripping her shoulder firmly with one hand. "Isolde cannot be allowed to go free to perpetuate her schemes."

"I know," Lhiannon said, sighing heavily and shaking her head slowly. "Still, this wasn't the way to ensure justice. Yes, she did those things and deserves whatever punishment Fergus deems appropriate. Yet, I feel...dirty...about it."

Loghain nodded, understanding exactly what she was feeling; he had been in her position a great many times over his long years as an army official, Teyrn, and regent. "Sometimes, decisions must be made that do not sit well with us. Each one takes a piece of our soul, but they are decisions that have to be made. Everyone _will_ be safer with Isolde languishing in a dungeon."

"Still, the whole situation makes me sick, Loghain," she sighed, bringing her hand up to cover his. "I won't have much of a soul left if this keeps up."

* * *

"Isolde Guerein, rise."

The firm voice of Teyrn Fergus Cousland of Highever rang strong throughout the audience chamber. Isolde rose from her chair, the chain connecting her manacled wrists clanging softly as she stood between the two guards that flanked her.

"I have heard the charges against you and have come to a decision. You have admitted to being the person who arranged for bribes to be sent to individuals in Gwaren in an attempt to cause sedition. You have admitted to penning the letters ordering the assassination of the Arlessa and Warden Commander. You have admitted to a desire to see harm come to the Arlessa and Warden Commander and several individuals have identified you as the person who attacked her in Redcliffe. You have admitted that the clothing worn by the person who attempted to assassinate the Arlessa and Warden Commander was yours.

"As Teyrn of Highever, in the stead of His Majesty King Alistair Theirin and Her Majesty Queen Anora Mac Tir Theirin, I pronounce you guilty of conspiracy and the attempted sedition of the Teyrnir of Gwaren and the Arling of Amaranthine. I pronounce you guilty of the attempted assassination of the Arlessa of Amaranthine and Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden."

Isolde stood silently, glaring at Lhiannon as the Teyrn pronounced her guilt. Lhiannon kept her gaze steady on the Arlessa, refusing to be intimidated by the likes of her. Isolde was beneath her contempt.

"As you are guilty of these crimes, your title of Arlessa is voided. The punishment for crimes of this nature is death."

Everyone heard the sharp intake of breath from Arl Eamon. Lhiannon saw that he was about to protest the Teyrn's words when Fergus held up a hand. "However, if Isolde will divulge the names of those who conspired with her and what plans they have in progress, she will not be executed, but instead will be remanded to prison for the remainder of her natural life." Fergus turned toward Isolde, giving her a stern look. "You will have one month to consider and accept this offer. If in one month you have still refused to tell all you know, you will be executed. In the meantime, you will be remanded to the royal prison at Fort Drakon in Denerim." Fergus turned his attention to the King, who had watched the Teyrn with interest as he rendered judgment. "This is my ruling, Your Majesty. Have you anything further to add?"

"No, I will accept your judgment as is. Thank you for your service." Alistair nodded to Fergus before he turned to his royal guards. "Return the prisoner to her cell. Two of you will remain on guard at all times until we return to Denerim." With a curt nod, the soldiers each took hold of an arm and led Isolde out of the hall toward the dungeon at Vigil's Keep. Eamon followed close behind, his face a mask of both anger and despair. He said nothing to the King and Queen, nor to the others gathered in the hall.

Loghain turned to Captain Garavel. "Follow the Arl; he is to be watched at all times. Keep your own guards on duty in the dungeon as well. Increase the number of guards within the Vigil until our guests have left."

"Yes, Warden," Garavel acknowledged, motioning for his guards to follow. Loghain turned to see Lhiannon and Fergus approach the King and Queen; he turned to join them.

"As much as this pains me to say," Alistair began, watching as Eamon disappeared through the door at the end of the hall, "we will have to deal with Eamon's culpability at the next Landsmeet."

"What do you mean?" Lhiannon asked, her brow furrowing.

"Eamon knew Isolde was going to take action against you and did nothing to stop it," Alistair said, running his hand through his hair. "At the very least, he appears to be guilty of negligence. We will have to decide at the Landsmeet if further action needs to be taken against him."

"He could be stripped of his title?" Fergus asked.

Both the King and Queen nodded. "It's possible. We shall have records of these proceedings sent to the nobility before the Landsmeet," Anora said. _He should be stripped of his title for all the trouble he has caused_, Anora thought, remembering what Eamon did with Cailan and now with Isolde and Lhiannon. Anora turned and looked at Alistair. "We will also have to consider Eamon's actions in the days leading up to the battle against the archdemon in Denerim," she added. "His insistence that the darkspawn horde would manifest at Redcliffe rather than the capital needs to be addressed."

Turning her head, Lhiannon looked at Fergus and bowed her head. "I'm grateful to you for all you have done today, Your Grace."

"I fear this isn't over yet, Commander," Fergus stated. "If His Majesty intends to put Eamon's actions up to the Landsmeet, we will have to contend with this issue until then."

Alistair looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "He _will_ be brought before the next Landsmeet to answer for his actions; there are many questions before him that require answers."

* * *

___Nice job, Velanna. OMG I hate that elf. I need to make sure something suitably horrible happens to her in the sequel. ;) Poor ____Jowan; he just can't get out from under the shadow of blood magic._

___I really agonized over this chapter. I'm still agonizing over it, but I need to get it out there to keep the story moving forward. I know Lhi isn't real happy with what she had to do. Neither am I, for that matter. But, the muse speaks as she will; I just type it out. My muse is quite the stinker. Besides, Isolde is getting just a little of what she deserves, so that makes me feel a tiny bit better. :)  
_

___The next chapter will have some fun in it; we'll need it after the trial and before we deal with mo________re pressing matters lurking on the horizon. Fair warning: it's looking lengthy. I'll have to see what happens in the final edit._

_Kudos and special thanks to my reviewers Dante Alighieri, Shakespira, Aura of Darkness Night, Arsinoe, Gene, and icey (no fighting over the noose, you two...you know of which noose I speak). ;)_

_Thanks as always to those of you who take a few minutes out of your day to spend with my story.  
_


	44. A Little Wager

_A/N: Heads up...I warned you this was a long chapter...I really couldn't split it. So, onward!_

* * *

The depths of winter came to Ferelden early in the form of a blinding snowstorm that started not long after the trial of Isolde Guerein ended at Vigil's Keep. The wind howled outside the Vigil, whipping the snow into the buildings within the fortress, the drifts growing ever higher as the snow continued to fall. Lhiannon bid her guests to stay until the snow abated and the soldiers could clear the roads leading out of Amaranthine. However, rather than consider staying, Arl Eamon opted to leave Vigil's Keep and take his chances in the storm. Both Varel and Teagan implored the Arl to wait out the storm at the Vigil, but he stiffly told the Seneschal and his brother that he would rather travel to one of the outlying villages and stay there than remain at Vigil's Keep any longer than necessary. When Varel told Lhiannon of Eamon's decision, she found that was not sorry to see him leave. _Don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out,_ she thought as the Arl and his entourage passed through the gates. _If you wish to risk your life, I shall not stop you._

As for the other noble guests, they opted to remain at Vigil's Keep until the storm could abate. The kitchen staff worked feverishly to prepare enough food for everyone, especially the King. His Grey Warden appetite was greater than several individuals combined and he was spotted going back to the kitchens for food several times. _We'll have to go hunting soon if he keeps eating like that_, Lhiannon scoffed to herself. There were many times during their travels that Alistair ate nearly all the food they had with them—and would have—had the other companions not squirreled some away.

Lhiannon brought forth a barrel of ale and wine from the stores of the Vigil and it was not long until a slightly raucous atmosphere took shape in the dining hall. Noble titles were forgotten as fellowship reigned above all. Lhiannon and Loghain sat near the Queen, his hand resting on Lhiannon's thigh and gently caressing it, watching as Alistair circulated among the people in the hall. Currently, he was laughing heartily at something Sigrun had said. Lhiannon watched as Sigrun beckoned toward her and Alistair shook his head, laughing.

"It seems you are the topic of that conversation," Loghain said, peering over the lip of his tankard as Sigrun grabbed the King's hand and began to lead him toward where Lhiannon sat. Sigrun had a look that was both mischievous and determined as she led the King across the dining hall.

"It appears we are about to find out," Lhiannon said, standing as Sigrun and Alistair approached. Loghain set his tankard on the table, watching the approaching figures with curious interest.

"You've spent far too much time in the Deep Roads, Sigrun. Lhiannon can barely hold a sword, let alone swing one. Believe me, I traveled with her long enough to know," the King laughed, looking at Lhiannon. She raised her brow to the King as Sigrun interjected herself.

"With all due respect, you're nuts, Your Majesty," Sigrun laughed, jerking a thumb at Lhiannon. "She's got a pretty mean sword arm; you should have seen her fighting the demon in the Blackmarsh. She was crazy good."

Alistair scoffed, looking at Lhiannon with disbelief. "Whoa, Sigrun. Lhiannon is a mage; mages don't go about swinging swords all willy-nilly. It makes the templars nervous and twitchy."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Your Majesty," Lhiannon said, grinning wickedly at the King. "But this mage does."

"I don't believe it," Alistair laughed, waving at Lhiannon in disbelief. "I think someone's been hitting the lyrium a little too hard. There's a big difference between a dagger and a sword, Lhiannon."

Loghain stood and watched as Lhiannon's face lit up, an idea suddenly forming in her mind as a smirk crossed her face. "Would you like to make a little wager on that, Your Majesty?"

Alistair's curiosity peaked, his eyebrows raised at his friend. "Ooh, a wager? You know I'm always up for a challenge. What type of wager?"

"Well," Lhiannon began, rubbing her chin in thought as a wicked grin crossed her face. "Since we're snowed in for the next day or so and need some entertainment, let's say we have a little contest, shall we? Something to showcase our sword fighting skills?"

"Now you have me intrigued," Alistair said, pointing his finger at Lhiannon. "If I win, you buy me a case of Antivan brandy; the good stuff, right from Antiva. Not the swill that's made elsewhere and just called Antivan."

"And if _I_ win, you buy me a case of West Hill brandy. Nicely aged, not swill."

Alistair looked toward Anora, who narrowed her eyes at him, a small grin crossing her face. "I like the idea, Husband. But I get to make the rules, since I can only observe."

Lhiannon turned to regard the Queen before nodding and looking back at Alistair. "I agree to that. The Queen sets the rules."

"Done," Alistair said, holding out his hand. Lhiannon shook it, turning toward the Queen. "Would you like to invite others to join us, Your Majesty? And set the rules of combat? No sense in just the two of us having all the fun."

Anora grinned and nodded, feeling the burgeoning excitement breaking through her normally stoic demeanor. She rose from her chair and grabbed an empty tankard and utensil from the table. She stepped up on the bench, her father guiding her and holding her waist in support as the Queen began to bang on the tankard with the utensil to gather the attention in the room to her.

"Ladies and gentlemen! A contest of swordsmanship has been proposed by King Alistair and Commander Lhiannon to entertain us as we wait for the snowstorm to abate," Anora called out, the heads in the room turning to regard her with interest. "The contest shall take place starting tomorrow morning. The King and the Commander would like to see who else wishes to join them in this endeavor."

A murmur of curious excitement went through the dining hall and Lhiannon watched as a number of heads nodded and wolfish smiles broke out on several of her friends' faces. "What are the rules?" Captain Garavel called out from near the back of the hall.

Anora looked down at Lhiannon and Loghain, shrugging slightly. "What rules would be appropriate?"

Loghain came out from where he stood behind Anora, guiding her down to the floor as he spoke. "We shall use blunted short swords; most everyone has some experience with them. We shall all wear leather armor provided by the stock we have in the training room; that way no one is at an advantage with their own armor."

"The battle will be over when one fighter yields; they must speak it clearly so that all can hear," Lhiannon added. "May I also suggest that we refrain from blows below the waist and above the knee?"

A number of chuckles were heard from throughout the room. "Yes, we wouldn't want to have anyone gelded during the duels," Anders called out, covering his bits and pieces with his hands and laughing uproariously as he did so. Lhiannon rolled her eyes, shaking her head and laughing. Anders, it seemed, would never grow up.

Anora turned to Lhiannon, leaning over and speaking to her quietly. "Do you have a quill and paper? We can have names drawn to see who shall duel who first."

Lhiannon nodded, running out of the dining hall and into the audience chamber where she knew Varel always had paper and an inkwell set stashed, excitement taking root within her. She hurried back as Anora grabbed an empty bread bowl off the table in front of her. "All who would like to participate, please put your name on a piece of paper and place it in this bowl. We shall draw names in the morning for the first round of the contest."

Lhiannon was pleased to see nearly everyone putting his or her name into the bowl for the contest. She saw some of her Wardens and guests hesitate, but the good-natured ribbing and teasing helped convince the reluctant ones to join in. As the pile of paper grew, so did Lhiannon's excitement. After the stresses of the trial and the actions of Velanna and Jowan, she was eager for a diversion. She sighed as she thought about the two blood mages; she still needed to speak to Loghain and Varel about their actions. Turning toward the Queen, Lhiannon took a brief leave, saying there was a matter she needed to discuss with Varel and Loghain for a few moments.

With a wave toward Varel, Lhiannon turned to Loghain. "Let's speak with Varel about what should be done with our wayward mages."

Loghain nodded, turning toward Anora and taking his leave. He led the way out of the dining hall, Lhiannon and Varel at his heels. They entered Varel's office, bolting the door behind them.

"Varel, I have a disciplinary issue that I would value your advice on," Lhiannon stated simply before turning to Loghain. "Of course, I would value yours as well."

With a nod, Varel sat at the chair behind his desk, bidding Lhiannon and Loghain to sit in the chairs across from him. "What concerns you, Commander?"

"What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room under any circumstances, Varel," Lhiannon said, leaning forward in her chair with her elbows on her knees. "I can trust you with that, yes?"

Varel's face darkened slightly before he answered. "Of course, Commander. What has you so concerned that this conversation never happened?"

"Before I left for the Blackmarsh, I had explicitly ordered Velanna to work with Jowan on magic other than blood magic. I also told Jowan that he was not to use blood magic unless the situation was dire and he had no other choice." Lhiannon paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. "While we were gone, Velanna convinced Jowan to teach her blood magic."

Varel sat back in his chair, a heavy sigh of his own escaping his lips. "That was perhaps the last thing she needed to know," he said, lightly pounding a fist on his desk. "Go on, Commander."

"I wasn't very happy with their course of action, but there was little I could do. I gave Velanna the same stipulation: do not use blood magic unless absolutely necessary. I don't need the Chantry putting pressure on us or the Crown because we have blood mages running amok here."

"Understandable, Commander."

Lhiannon moved her hands to her temples, trying to massage away the pounding that was quickly setting in there. Just thinking about what Velanna and Jowan did made her head ache with the depth of her anger.

"During Isolde Guerein's trial, Velanna used blood magic to plant a mild suggestion in Isolde's head that she wanted to tell the truth," Loghain said as Lhiannon continued to rub her temples. "Jowan provided the blood to fuel the spell."

Varel sat back in his chair, his breath coming out his nose in a loud hiss. "I can see why you don't want word of this getting out. The problems we have within the arling would increase exponentially."

"Jowan and Velanna need to be punished for disobeying my order, Varel. I, however, don't know what is appropriate. This is completely new to me."

Loghain looked at Varel, his brows lifting as he thought. "What say you, Varel? I think a flogging would be appropriate."

Varel sighed, steepling his hands in front of him. "Commander, as much as they do deserve to be punished for disobeying your orders, that would mean it would have to be done in front of the other Grey Wardens; they need to bear witness. However, since this matter needs to be kept quiet…"

"We can't punish them publicly," Lhiannon finished after a brief pause, shaking her head. "It would raise too many questions."

"And punishing them in private would also raise questions," Loghain added, rubbing his chin as he pondered the situation. "The others would want to know why they are being punished. Too many people would know what they did. We can't have that."

Lhiannon bristled in her chair, angry that Jowan and Velanna's actions would most likely go unpunished. While she knew Jowan felt remorse for what they had done, Velanna has no such qualms about her actions. Lhiannon feared that Velanna might see the lack of consequences as open permission to practice blood magic as she saw fit. The Chantry was likely agitated enough with her, but if they learned there was a heathen Dalish elf blood mage right under their nose... "Maker damn it," she hissed, lightly slamming her hand on the arm of her chair.

"There is one thing you can do, Commander," Loghain said. Lhiannon turned to look at him, her expression questioning. "You can't punish them now, but let them know that if they cross your path again, the punishment will be swift and uncompromising. Hopefully that will serve as a deterrent."

Nodding his head, Varel seconded Loghain's suggestion. "That may be the best course of action in this case, Commander."

Lhiannon looked down at the floor for a moment before nodding her agreement. "The two of you are right; the less people that know what happened, the better." She turned to look at Loghain. "Loghain, please bring Jowan and Velanna here."

Loghain nodded, leaving Varel's office to gather the wayward mages. It was only a few brief moments before Jowan and Velanna arrived with Loghain right on their heels. They entered Varel's office and stood at attention while Loghain closed and barred the door behind him. Lhiannon and Varel stood as the mages entered, moving to stand before them. Lhiannon found herself flanked by Varel and Loghain, presenting a united front to both mages.

"I've called you both here to discuss punishment for what you did during the trial," Lhiannon began, her words clipped and icy. She took a step forward, glaring at both mages. "Fortunately for you, there will be no public punishment for what you have done."

Jowan and Velanna both stared at Lhiannon; Jowan's expression was one of shock, while Velanna's resembled righteous vindication. Lhiannon saw Velanna's look and felt her smug satisfaction through the taint. She moved to stand in front of the elf, her gaze bearing down on Velanna with rage. Velanna fought to stand her ground, but took a half step back when she saw the fire in Lhiannon's eyes.

"_Don't you dare_ stand there feeling smug and satisfied for what you've done," Lhiannon snarled at Velanna. "You've jeopardized an entire investigation with your stupid actions. By rights I should have both of you flogged publicly in front of the entire group of Grey Wardens and soldiers here at the compound. You should consider yourself lucky that we are the only five that know what you've done, and we mean to keep it that way."

Lhiannon stepped back so she could look at both mages as she spoke. "There will be no punishment for your actions. You will swear to silence over what you have done and what was discussed in this meeting. If you break your oath of silence, I swear to the Maker that I will drag you both to the Deep Roads myself." She paused, turning back toward Loghain and Varel. Both gave her slight nods of encouragement. Lhiannon whirled about to face the mages once again.

She pointed a finger at each one as she spoke. "Know this: if either of you come before me for a disciplinary matter again, I will have you both flogged publicly and sent to the prison in solitary confinement with your hands bound in chains so you cannot cast any spells. The two of you have utterly _destroyed _whatever trust I had in you. You shall have to earn it back, but know that it will likely take a long time." Lhiannon stopped and took a breath, standing straight before them with her hands clasped behind her back. "Now, I want your solemn oaths as Grey Wardens that you will not speak of what you have done, nor speak of this meeting."

Jowan bowed his head. "I swear, Commander. I'm sorry for having done this."

Velanna looked Lhiannon directly in the eye, her expression softer that it normally was. "I, too, swear. In the presence of the creators, I will not speak of this."

Lhiannon nodded, looking at both mages as they stood before her. Finally, she nodded. "I accept your oath. Now, get out of my sight."

* * *

Lhiannon rose early the next morning after hardly sleeping during the night, excitement over the contest overriding any negative feelings from the meeting with Jowan and Velanna the evening before. As she sat up in bed, Loghain gruffly rolled onto his side, pulling the blankets with him and grousing about how Lhiannon's tossing and turning kept him from sleeping most of the night. Lhiannon laughed, dropping a kiss on his brow before bounding out of bed to dress in her longshirt and trousers. Reluctantly, she removed her silverite band and placed it in the small jewelry chest on her vanity; seeing as it was enchanted, it was not allowed in the duels. She was tying her hair behind her when she heard Loghain rise from the bed, his joints cracking loudly.

"Your bones are protesting already?" Lhiannon snickered as she dodged a shirt tossed by Loghain in her direction. "If I draw your name, I shall be at an advantage."

"Insolent child," Loghain groused, moving up behind her and quickly pulling her to him, kissing her languidly and deeply. When he broke the kiss, she looked up at him with heavily lidded eyes, her breathing deep and lips slightly swollen as she sagged in his arms. He grinned at her. "Who has the advantage now?"

"Not fair," Lhiannon grinned, standing on her toes to kiss the tip of his nose. Loghain grinned mischievously at her. "Lhi, all is fair in love and war."

* * *

The sword fighting contest was to take place in the training hall at Vigil's Keep, a large, open room with high ceilings and plenty of room to move about. Training dummies, armor and weapon stands, and worktables were hastily pushed along the walls, giving the participants room to maneuver as they dueled. A number of soldiers lined the walls, buzzing with excitement at the competition; a few were even placing wagers amongst themselves. Servants from the keep also stood among them, chattering among themselves as to which participants were most likely to be victorious. The mages, Anders, Jowan, and Velanna, stood nearby, preparing to heal any injuries that may occur during the matches.

Queen Anora held the bowl containing the names of the participants in the contest. One by one, the participants had arrived and donned studded leather armor from the stocks at the Vigil, bantering back and forth as they prepared. The twelve participants stood before the Queen, ready to draw the name of their opponent in the first round. "Warden Commander Lhiannon, as you are the gracious hostess for this contest, you may select the first name and compete in the first battle of the day."

Lhiannon stepped forward, reaching toward the bowl to pull the name of her opponent. As she reached for the bowl, she heard Alistair call out to her. "No using magic, Lhiannon. That would be cheating."

Lhiannon heard a number of scoffs from the gathered soldiers and participants. She turned her head to look at the King, smiling sweetly at him. "I don't need magic to thoroughly trounce _you_," Laughter and catcalling ran through the crowd; even the Queen laughed as Lhiannon reached in and pulled Captain Garavel's name from the bowl.

Lhiannon and Garavel walked to the center of the training room, tipping their swords at each other as the duel began. It was a fast paced battle, both competitors barely pausing between feints and slashes, offensive and defensive fighting. Garavel was taller and stronger, but Lhiannon was faster and had quicker hands; her magical training had taught her to move her hands fast in combat situations. After several minutes of back and forth fighting, Lhiannon was able to disarm Garavel with a quick flick of her sword and trip him to the ground, holding the blunted weapon at his throat to earn his yield. She held out her hand, helping her Captain to his feet and shaking his hand firmly.

"Commander, your skills are superb, as always. Your trainer must be commended," Garavel said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Lhiannon deftly caught a rag that was tossed to her by one of the soldiers, wiping her own forehead as her breathing began to calm. She tipped her head toward Loghain. "Then that is the person to speak to. Loghain taught me everything I know about wielding a sword."

Captain Garavel looked toward Loghain. "Warden, I think you'll be spending even more time with the soldiers in the future."

Loghain scoffed, a small grin on his face. "As long as it takes me away from that damned desk."

Lhiannon returned to the loose circle of competitors, hearing a scoff from Alistair as she approached. "I'm sure Captain Garavel let you win," the King grinned. "It would be bad manners to have the hostess of this event thoroughly trounced in the first round, especially when she is the opponent's Arlessa. You could banish him to the Korcari Wilds if he defeated you."

"Are you worried that a mere mage can defeat you? That a _girl _can?" Lhiannon grinned, earning good-natured scoffs from the other competitors.

"Me? Worried?" Alistair said, dramatically pointing to his chest and raising his brows at Lhiannon. "Surely you jest."

The Queen called forward Leliana, who daintily reached into the bowl to pull Sigrun's name out. The dwarf quickly bounded forward to grab her sword, a large grin on her tattooed face as she did so. The rogues spent a great deal of time feeling each other out, looking for weaknesses as they attacked and tested the other's defenses. Their strikes were fast but precise, each trying to leverage their strengths against the other's limitations. Suddenly, Leliana feigned a lunge with her sword, but instead kicked out and tripped Sigrun as she moved to counter, landing on her knees next to the dwarf with her sword resting on her neck. Sigrun sighed. "Epic fail. And you just had your Joining." Leliana giggled at the dwarf. "You very nearly had me beat several times, Sigrun." Leliana pulled the dwarf to her feet, giving her a friendly hug before moving off to be tended to by the mages.

The third match saw Varel pitted against Oghren, who was thrilled to be fighting the Seneschal. "I'll have my revenge on you for locking the ale barrels away," Oghren growled as he charged at Varel, channeling his rage at being denied his dwarven ale into pure brute strength and power. Though Varel was able to fend off the rampaging dwarf at the start, it was not long before Oghren had worn Varel down with his fevered attacks and earned his victory. Oghren stood, pulling a flask from his armor and draining the contents, belching loudly as he finished. "To victory!" There were equal amounts of groans and scoffs heard from the spectators.

Nathaniel next stepped forward and plucked the name of Bann Teagan out of the bowl. Teagan groaned to himself, knowing that entering this contest was a bad idea; it was the goading of Anders that made him agree to put his name in. He was no warrior but was able to fend off Nathaniel's feints and slashes for a respectable time before Nathaniel finally forced Teagan to the ground, the tip of his blunted sword pointed at his throat. Grinning, Teagan took Nathaniel's offered hand and stood, walking over toward Loghain. "Perhaps, Warden, you can teach me a thing or two about swordcraft. You've done an excellent job with the Commander; perhaps there is hope for me yet." Loghain nodded at Teagan, who clapped Loghain on the back before beginning to peel off the studded leathers.

It was Zevran's turn to step forward to pull a name out of the Queen's bowl. He was slightly nervous, as there were only three others left: King Alistair, Sergeant Maverlies, and Warden Loghain. His prospects for victory were looking more remote than he liked. Zevran had confidence in his skills and had taken down many opponents like the three that were left. His chances were probably best with the King, as he had watched the King fight a great many times and knew his style—and weaknesses. Loghain was perhaps next, as Zevran had watched him for some time as well. His abilities were well honed and nearly flawless; Zevran knew he would have a difficult time breaching Loghain's defenses. Maverlies was a complete mystery, and though he had fought opponents without seeing them in action before, a little observation was always better; he was an ardent believer in 'forewarned is forearmed'. Reaching into the bowl, he grimaced as he pulled Loghain's name out. Loghain confidently stepped forward, taking the blunted sword offered to him by Lhiannon and beginning to stalk the Antivan, his assurance clear in his seemingly effortless steps. His eyes narrowed as he studied Zevran's movements.

"Now, Loghain," Zevran said, nervously fingering the short sword in his hand. "I hope you are not entertaining the notion of punishing me for not fulfilling that unfortunate contract during the civil war. After all, my failure worked out rather well for you, yes? Having the lovely Warden at your side is much better, yes?" Zevran leaned in, speaking in a low tone. "And in your bed?"

Loghain rolled his eyes and growled at Zevran before glancing over in Lhiannon's direction. She had her hand over her face, giggling madly at Zevran's pleas. Zevran tried to take advantage of Loghain's momentary distraction, lunging himself at the Teyrn in an effort to knock him off his feet and gain an edge over the much larger man. Loghain was able to swing his free arm out, deflecting some of Zevran's weight and bringing his blunted sword around to slash at the assassin's legs. Zevran fell to the ground, but was quickly on his feet before Loghain could put his sword to Zevran's throat. The Antivan danced around Loghain, trying to wear the Warden down as he darted in and out of Loghain's reach. Zevran danced in toward Loghain, feinting left and then suddenly moving right, hoping to draw Loghain's sword arm away so that he could take advantage of Loghain's undefended side. Loghain anticipated the move, moving so that his sword arm caught Zevran's sword as he passed by, deftly disarming the elf before shoving him against a nearby wall with his forearm and pointing the tip of his sword at the elf's throat. Zevran looked warily between the sword and the Warden before yielding, Loghain's curt nod accepting it.

The last match of the first round saw King Alistair fighting Sergeant Maverlies. Lhiannon and Loghain both watched this bout with great interest, as both had discussed the possibility of having Maverlies take the Joining. Lhiannon had mentioned it to the Sergeant before and was waiting for Maverlies' decision.

The duel between Alistair and Maverlies lasted nearly a quarter hour, both competitors dealing and receiving punishing blows from the blunted swords. Both warriors had been knocked to the ground several times, rolling out of their opponent's way just as swords were closing in on their necks. Maverlies had disarmed the King toward the end, moving in for the victory when Alistair tangled his legs within Maverlies', tripping her and causing her sword to go skittering a short distance away from her hand, but well within the reach of the sprawling King. Alistair rolled to his side and grabbed the sword, quickly leaping to his feet and holding the tip to Maverlies' neck before she could stand. She nodded, yielding to the King as he held out his hand and helped her to her feet. Maverlies bowed to Alistair, telling him he was a worthy opponent and if she had to lose to anyone, she was glad it was to the King.

The Queen called for a brief recess, asking the mages to heal the competitors that would be fighting in the second round. The flickering of blue magical energies could be seen enveloping the competitors as they stood in a loose configuration. Anora took the slips of paper bearing the winners' names and put them back into the bowl. There would be three matches in this round. She called Lhiannon forward first, as she participated in the first match and was therefore the most rested. Lhiannon reached into the bowl and pulled Oghren's name out.

"By the tits of my ancestors, I can have revenge on you too for taking the ale barrels away!" Oghren bellowed. "Get ready for some Oghren!"

Lhiannon looked at the Queen, who was rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Maker help me."

"I heard that," Oghren groused from where he stood in the battle area.

Lhiannon pulled her blunted sword and approached Oghren, preparing for Oghren's opening volley. She was anticipating a fast charge and steeled herself for it. As she approached, he belched loudly at Lhiannon, the stench of slightly used dwarven ale assaulting her nostrils and making her eyes water.

"Heh heh, how's that for starters?" Oghren growled, rushing forward to attack Lhiannon while she was distracted. She had barely enough time to step out of the charging dwarf's way, dropping to the ground to avoid being hit by his blunted sword as it swung by just overhead, the hiss of the blade cutting through the air above her. She quickly scampered to her feet as Oghren was on her again, madly swinging his sword with all the force he could muster, seeking to simply overpower Lhiannon in this match.

Lhiannon kept on the defensive, waiting for Oghren's energy to falter before she moved in for her own attack. It felt like an eternity, but Lhiannon finally noticed Oghren's energy flagging and his chest heaving with exertion as his stamina began to wane. Even his burping and smart comments were becoming fewer, which was just the sign she was looking for. She found an opening in his defenses when Oghren swung his sword at her sloppily. Lhiannon pivoted and planted her foot into Oghren's back, pushing against it to use his momentum against him. He stumbled forward and fell onto his stomach; Lhiannon was quickly at his side when he rolled over, her sword pointed at his throat and her brow raised.

"'Scuse me while I do _my_ happy dance," Lhiannon grinned, holding her hand out to Oghren. He took it, a deep chuckle filling the space between them. "Imitation is a form of flattery, Commander. Let's see you imitate me by having a pint of dwarven ale."

Lhiannon grimaced, her nose wrinkling as she shook her head. "I think I'll pass."

"Chicken," Oghren smirked. "More for ol' Oghren then."

The second match featured Loghain versus Leliana and was over almost before it started. Leliana had begun the match strong, dodging the more powerful Loghain's initial attacks with her nimbleness and speed. She knew not long into the duel that she was clearly still feeling the adverse effects from her Joining and the earlier bout with Sigrun. She searched in vain for weaknesses in Loghain's defenses; he would seemingly open himself to attack to draw her in, only to quickly block her strikes as she tried to take advantage. Her stamina quickly faded as she defended against Loghain's relentless attacks. In the end, he simply overpowered her defense, knocking her to the ground and pointing his sword at her throat. She looked at the tip of the sword thoughtfully before yielding. Loghain pulled his sword back and extended his hand, slowly helping a shaky Leliana to her feet. She offered Loghain congratulations before heading over to the mages for healing.

The round's final match had Nathaniel and Alistair paired together. Alistair had his hands full with the crafty rogue, who teased the King with feints and jabs meant to gradually wear his stamina down. Lhiannon watched the King, seeing his strength and stamina begin to falter under Nathaniel's constant needling and dodging. She had seen the King fight a great many times and knew that he always had a second wind when it looked like he was about to be defeated. It was no surprise to her then when the King suddenly launched himself at Nathaniel, ducking and feinting an attack that took Nathaniel by surprise. He tried to quickly move out of the King's way, only to find himself directly in the line of fire as Alistair anticipated his move. A blow to Nathaniel's sword arm caused it to spasm immediately and his sword fell to the floor with a loud clatter. The King then had his sword at Nathaniel's throat, who sighed and yielded the match.

The contest was now down to three competitors who had advanced this far: Lhiannon, Loghain, and King Alistair. The Queen did not want a three-way battle for the final round and so picked a random name from the losing participants and placed it in the bowl; Captain Garavel was going to get a second chance at the tournament. Loghain stepped forward to pick one of the three slips of paper remaining and drew the Captain's name.

"Excellent, Warden," Garavel said, tipping his sword at Loghain. "I look forward to experiencing your skills first hand," he said as he charged at the imposing Warden. Their fight was a lesson in tactical sword fighting, each man carefully plotting his next few moves while trying to anticipate the actions of the other. Their carefully scripted feints and slashes went on for ten minutes before Garavel began to press his advantage as his patience began to wear thin. Loghain had been waiting for Garavel's impatience and used the Captain's increasingly agitated moves to his advantage. Loghain feinted a lunge in one direction while moving in the opposite, swinging his sword at Garavel's now unprotected side. The sword crashed into Garavel's ribs, the heavy blow causing him to drop to one knee as his sword skittered away from his hand. Loghain was quickly behind Garavel, one hand on the Captain's head and his sword up against Garavel's throat. The Captain sighed, yielding the battle to Loghain.

Alistair turned to look at Lhiannon, the lopsided grin that she knew so well already on his face. "Well, it looks like it's down to you and me, my dear."

"I hope you're ready, Your Majesty," Lhiannon grinned as Loghain came up to her side and leaned forward, speaking quietly into her ear. "Good luck," he breathed, his breath a warm caress against her skin.

"I'll go easy on you," Alistair grinned as he led the way to the floor. He had barely reached the center of the battle area when he turned and lunged at Lhiannon, swinging his sword low to sweep her off her feet. Lhiannon jumped back just in time, the blunted tip of the sword brushing the front of her legs. As Alistair was following through with his swing, Lhiannon thrust her sword at the King's unprotected side, knocking him backwards with a force that the King did not expect. The look of surprise on his face nearly made Lhiannon laugh out loud. Alistair had never seen her fight this way before; she had learned her skills from Loghain after the Landsmeet and before she battled the archdemon. He would have his hands full with her if he continued to take her skills lightly.

They settled into a series of back and forth flurries, alternating between offensive and defensive periods. At one point, Lhiannon had disarmed the King and knocked him to the ground. As she was moving in for the yield, he kicked out with his legs, causing Lhiannon to stumble backwards, giving him time to scramble to his feet and grab his sword. "I really want to smite you right now. Just for fun," he grinned at Lhiannon, who returned his grin with one of her own. "Not even the King gets to cheat," she admonished him as she swung her sword in attack. Their flurries continued for several more moments. Though Lhiannon tried to conserve her energy, she felt her strength and stamina lagging under the relentless assault of the King. He saw her flagging and began pressing his advantage, his powerful swings coming one after the other and weakening Lhiannon's defenses as she scurried to protect herself. Knowing that her time was running out, she managed one last flurry of swings, her attacks driving the King back and one swing actually breaking through his defenses to jab him painfully in the ribs.

"Ow! Who's Princess Stabbity now?" he grunted, holding his side briefly before resuming his attack. It took only seconds for Alistair and Lhiannon to lock swords, Alistair's face looming over Lhiannon's as they both wore pained expressions trying to overpower the other. "I admit," Alistair said through gritted teeth, "you've become quite adept at swordcraft."

"I'm going easy on you," Lhiannon gritted, feeling the greater weight and height of Alistair taking its toll. She tried to shove the King away but his considerable physical advantage overpowered her. Lhiannon fell onto her back and watched as the King brought his sword to her throat, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'll pass on the ritual dismemberment; it isn't Tuesday." He held his hand out to Lhiannon, who took it and found herself pulled into Alistair's strong embrace. "You did well, Commander," he laughed joyously. She found herself laughing along with him.

"And you, Your Majesty. It appears I owe you some Antivan brandy," she replied, allowing Alistair to walk her back to where Loghain stood along the sideline. Alistair looked at his father-in-law, apparently sizing him up. "Looks like you and me next," the King said evenly before moving off for healing from the mages.

"Indeed," Loghain replied, turning his attention to a battered Lhiannon. "You fought well. The King is an accomplished swordsman."

"I have every confidence that you shall teach him something new," Lhiannon said, leaning against Loghain in her exhaustion. He supported her weight as she caught her breath, his arm around her waist as she rested.

A brief recess was called to allow for the last two competitors to be completely healed. It was well into the afternoon and the smell of the late day meal was wafting through the halls of the Vigil. The Queen called forward the final two competitors, King Alistair and Warden Loghain. Her gaze flitted between both.

"You have made this last match most difficult for me; I do not know who I should cheer for. You both have made me proud," she said, taking each man's hand in her own. "I wish both of you the best of luck."

Lhiannon came forward from the kitchens carrying a wooden crate; inside were the flasks of Antivan brandy that she had brought back from one of her trips to Amaranthine. The King raised his brows as Lhiannon set the crate on the table next to him, the bottles rattling loudly inside. "I don't want to be seen as not paying off my debts," she grinned. "Perhaps we can open a bottle when the last battle is over?"

"Only one?" Oghren called out from his place on the sidelines, earning laughs and scoffs from those around him. Alistair rolled his eyes at Lhiannon. "Somebody's been drinking."

"You think?" Lhiannon grinned. "When doesn't Oghren drink?"

"Point taken," the King agreed, turning to regard Loghain. "Are you ready, Warden?"

Loghain nodded curtly. Though this duel was not what he had pictured would happen, he found himself looking forward to the match. He and the King had agreed to act like gentlemen for Anora's sake, but deep down he was looking forward to trouncing the King; petty, perhaps, but accurate nonetheless. Loghain was sure the King felt the same way. He would have to be careful however, as the King was not only the husband of his daughter and dear friend to his betrothed, but was also the father to his unborn grandchild and heir to the throne.

It hit him as he walked to the battle area, circling the King with his sword at the ready, that it was a child with his blood that was coming. A child with his blood that would inherit Ferelden, his blood _and_ Maric's blood united in one line. All the work they had done during the rebellion and afterward to raise Ferelden from the ashes like a phoenix had finally come together in a child that Anora now carried. It had not happened as he and Maric had planned, but it _had_ happened. Of course, he knew all along that this child was of his bloodline; it was the symbolism of all the things the child represented that nearly bowled Loghain over in that moment.

Loghain and Alistair had been testing the others' defenses in the opening moments of their duel, swings and feints designed to look for weaknesses and size up strengths. Loghain fought to keep his mind on the King and his attack, but found his thoughts divided between the battle before him and the symbols of Ferelden around him. He and Maric betrothed Cailan and Anora as children and both thought an heir uniting their lines would be conceived soon after the marriage. The troubles began when it was clear that an heir was looking less and less likely as the years passed. Loghain had not heard of bastard children fathered by Cailan though his many infidelities were well known, even to the Queen. It was indeed very likely that the lack of an heir was not Anora's fault, but Cailan's; that Anora was with child so quickly—especially with the father a Grey Warden—had to infuriate Eamon to no end. Loghain found the thought of an infuriated Eamon amusing.

Loghain briefly saw the King's defense falter and quickly lunged forward with a slash to the King's ribs. Alistair hissed in pain and stumbled, but was quickly on his feet before Loghain could press the advantage. Alistair quickly brushed his long hair out of his face and in that moment, Loghain saw very clearly the face of his best friend reflected in the King's features. Loghain felt his heart ache once again for Maric, the pain of his loss renewed. Alistair lunged at Loghain, swinging his sword with the force of youth and strength. Loghain deflected his blows, but felt his muscles begin to protest under the strain.

Alistair had many of Maric's shortcomings, that much was clear to Loghain. Alistair was idealistic to a fault and tried to hide behind his humor as Maric often did. However, Alistair was a dedicated man when he had to be, much like Maric had become. He had groused bitterly at first when it became clear that he was to be King, but since accepting his fate he had thrown himself into the task, proving to be a capable ruler on his own. Anora had told her Father during their recent trip to Denerim that Alistair was actually quite talented at ruling the kingdom and that he had welcomed Anora's advice and tutelage gratefully. They were ruling together as a unit, completely different from when Cailan was King. Alistair had also promised fidelity to Anora, vowing in the sight of the Maker that he would remain faithful to her. Of course, Cailan did as well, but Alistair took his oaths very seriously, no doubt due to his templar training; Lhiannon had mentioned that to Loghain as well.

A blow to Loghain's arm sent him sprawling to the floor, rolling out of the way before the King could pin him with his sword and claim victory. Loghain kicked at the King as he loomed overhead, pushing him out of the way so Loghain could scramble to his feet, his sword brandished in front of him again and pressing his attack on the King.

Loghain was confident that given time, he could defeat the younger King with his years of sword fighting experience; Loghain fought to win, and he knew he could defeat this whelp of a King. There were few that could best Loghain in an even fight such as this, even at his age. Loghain knew that if he won the fight, the animosity would likely remain between him and the King; it would still cause Anora undue stress at a time when she least needed it. She would worry in the back of her mind whether or not her husband and father would soon be at each other's throats over any little thing. If letting go of such animosity would relieve Anora's burden and make things easier between the King and himself, it was a sacrifice Loghain was willing to make; a tactical defeat, as it were. Anora was his little girl, always and forever six years old with skinned knees and pigtails; he would make any sacrifice for her, including letting her husband taste victory today.

Just because he had decided to let the King have his victory this day did not mean Loghain was going to make it easy for him, nor pass on any opportunities the King presented. As the King lunged forward to strike at Loghain's side, he moved out of the way, swinging his sword with both hands and landing it across the King's broad back. The King's breath left his lungs in a loud hiss and he staggered a step. Loghain pressed his advantage, swinging his sword at the King to try and break his defenses. The King was able to match Loghain's blows, finally locking swords with Loghain before shoving him forcefully away. Loghain staggered a step and barely brought his sword up in time to deflect a blow from Alistair, his face a mask of grim determination. The King saw Loghain's stagger and rushed toward him, dropping his shoulder at the last second to knock Loghain off his feet and onto the floor. Loghain moved to spring to his feet, but the King quickly loomed over him, the tip of his blunted sword pressed lightly into Loghain's neck. Though this was what Loghain had intended, deep down he felt his pride being assaulted at having to yield to a much younger opponent for the second time in a year. He sighed, resigned. "Well done, Your Majesty. I yield."

* * *

Loghain hissed as he lowered himself into the near scalding water of his bath, his skin a myriad rainbow of bruises. Lhiannon hiked up her dress and kneeled on the floor behind the tub, kneading his shoulders with her strong, soft hands. She occasionally sent a ripple of healing through them, loosening the tight muscles beneath.

"I'm very proud of you," she said, her thumbs working on knots to either side of Loghain's spine just below his neck. The knots refused to loosen until she sent a small wave of healing into them. Loghain sighed appreciatively as they unwound, the tension and ache falling away.

"It went well," Loghain agreed, letting his head tip back to rest on the lip of the tub. He closed his eyes in contentment as Lhiannon's hands continued their work. "I think, perhaps, there may be a new understanding between the King and myself."

"I'm sure Anora will be happy to see it." Lhiannon reached up onto the side of the tub for the healing ointment to rub into Loghain's muscles. It was just out of her reach; she stood, walking around the tub to grab the jar. As she picked up the jar, Loghain opened his eyes and quickly pulled her into the tub, fully clothed. Lhiannon yelped in surprise as she dropped the jar and Loghain settled her into his lap, her dress quickly soaking up the water. She looked at Loghain's grinning face, her admonishment stifled as his lips found hers. Lhiannon wrapped her arms around Loghain's neck, completely forgetting the jar of ointment floating in the water with them.

* * *

_This chapter was inspired by a scene from television miniseries "The Mists of Avalon" (read the book by Marion Zimmer Bradley...it's far better). In the scene, Arthur is nearing his coronation and his knights engage in sword fighting duels to entertain themselves and show off their talents. Arthur and Lancelot eventually duel each other. Lancelot gets Arthur into a position where he can defeat him, but with a mischievous glance at Arthur, Lancelot allows Arthur to win the duel and further cement his prowess as a warrior and king to those around him. And so, this chapter was born of that two minute scene. Besides, I wanted something a little lighter before we start getting down to business with the antagonists.  
_

_And in a true sense of irony, real life finds its way into fiction. I wrote the bulk of this chapter about six weeks ago and the premise WAS to have everyone snowed in by a storm and needing something to do to pass the time. As fate and the Maker would have it, as I was getting ready to edit this chapter before posting, Snowmageddon came to my part of Michigan. Or as one of my favorite radio stations put it (tongue firmly in cheek) "Death Storm 2011". I really WAS snowed OUT of my house...I couldn't make it home because of 14 inches of snow with three foot drifts in my driveway and four foot drifts in the road. That is also why this chapter is a day or so later in posting than I planned._

_Special thanks to reviewers Shakespira, Arsinoe, Enaid Aderyn, TG2000, Aura of Darkness Night, icey, Gene, Zute, and Arenaviriade. You always make me smile when I see your names in the inbox._

_Thanks also to the readers and lurkers. I'm happy to have you along for the ride!  
_


	45. Fire and Corruption

A solder sent by Constable Aidan from Amaranthine heralded the end of the snowstorm and confirmed that the roads leading from the arling were now passable. When word came that the roads were open, Teyrn Fergus came to take his leave from Lhiannon, wanting to return to Highever and his duties there. Bann Teagan was not far behind; he not only needed to return to his own lands, but also wanted to make sure Eamon made it back to Redcliffe safely. Their relationship was likely strained, given Teagan's involvement in Isolde's trial, but he still wanted to make sure his brother was home safely. Lhiannon gave him a warm hug, extending an open invitation for him to return to Amaranthine at any time.

Alistair and Anora decided to remain at Vigil's Keep for a few more days; Anora had been feeling overly tired from the trial and then the excitement of the tournament and wished to rest for a few days before beginning the journey back to Denerim. Alistair did not want to stress the Queen any further and agreed to remain behind. He sent couriers to Denerim with news of their delay.

Early afternoon found Lhiannon in her office reviewing the finances of the arling. Since the road through the Wending Wood was cleared of its troubles, caravans were arriving in greater numbers with a greater variety of products. The coffers of Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine were slowly but surely growing and it appeared that the worst of the financial difficulties was past.

She could see Loghain across the hall at his desk, reviewing requisitions for new weapons and armor. A great deal of coin had been spent to outfit the solders at Vigil's Keep, much of it coming from Loghain's own coffers during the time Amaranthine's coffers were at critical levels. New weapons and armor were being delivered to the barracks within the Vigil, the soldiers finally looking like a legitimate army in their matching armor rather than the mishmash they had to contend with in recent months.

It was later in the afternoon when Varel arrived at her door, announcing a guest from Amaranthine. Lhiannon had not been expecting anyone from the city this day and asked Varel to bring the guest to her office. Varel and the guest arrived in her doorway a few moments later, unwinding a scarf from around their head. When the visitor finished, Lhiannon was pleased to see the smiling face of Delilah Howe before her.

"Delilah! This is a pleasant surprise. Welcome," Lhiannon said warmly, rising from her desk in greeting, smiling at Delilah as she folded her scarf in her hand.

"Nathaniel invited me to return to Vigil's Keep the last time he was in Amaranthine," Delilah explained, removing her cloak and folding it over her arm. Lhiannon could see the protrusion in Delilah's stomach indicating that her pregnancy was progressing well. Lhiannon felt a small pang of melancholy as she looked at Delilah, but quickly motioned her into one of the chairs across from her desk. "And you are welcome here any time. Varel, please find Nathaniel, would you?"

Nodding, Varel retreated from Lhiannon's office to gather Nathaniel. While they waited for Nathaniel to arrive, Lhiannon settled into the chair next to Delilah and they engaged in the usual small talk; the weather was clearing nicely. The roads between the city and Vigil's Keep were well cleared and there was little difficulty encountered on the road. Albert was still in western Ferelden, searching for new items for their shop; he was due back within the month and Delilah was most excited to see him. Her pregnancy was progressing well, aside from the occasional bouts of morning sickness and swollen ankles. Lhiannon told Delilah that the Queen was visiting and that she too was pregnant; their trip back to Denerim delayed due to her condition. Lhiannon felt the small pang again, quickly quashing it as Nathaniel arrived and gathered Delilah in a warm hug, taking her to his quarters to go through some of their father's things that Nathaniel had kept.

Lhiannon returned to her paperwork, setting seal to the transcripts of Isolde's trial and other paperwork, barely noticing when the room began to grow darker with the impending evening. She was leaning over her desk, her head close to the paperwork so she could see what she was doing when a small oil lamp was set on the desk in front of her, bathing the desktop in its soft yellow light. Lhiannon blinked at the sudden appearance of the light, looking up to see Loghain standing at her desk, a wry grin on his face.

"Though it has been amusing watching your head sink lower and lower to the desk as it became darker, I thought you might like some light if you insist on working into the evening."

Lhiannon put her quill down, rubbing the back of her neck to loosen the tight muscles there. She grimaced as her hand touched the sore muscles. Loghain moved around behind her and brushed her hand away, his strong fingers digging into the tight muscles and demanding that they untwist themselves. She sighed gratefully, letting her shoulders slump as Loghain's fingers worked.

"Perhaps things can start getting back to normal here now that the trial is over and most of our guests have left," Lhiannon said, closing her eyes as Loghain's hands gently pushed her forward. Lhiannon brought her arms on top of her desk and settled her head on them as Loghain moved his ministrations down her back. She sighed in contentment as his hands continued their work.

"Whatever 'normal' here is," he scoffed. "This is the least 'normal' place in all of Ferelden, it seems."

"Hey, don't go talking badly about my Arling," Lhiannon quipped, her voice muffled by her head resting in her arms. "So it's not completely normal with all the darkspawn and unruly nobles running amok. At least it doesn't smell like fish."

Loghain scoffed, gently pulling Lhiannon from the chair and drawing her close, his arms wrapping possessively around her. "Sticks and stones," he snorted. She nestled into his broad chest, his longshirt soft against her skin and his heartbeat a comforting sound. There was a feeling of warmth and safety in those arms. She could stay there forever.

"We still have to deal with the Architect and whatever this 'Mother' is," Lhiannon sighed, shuddering lightly at the thought of the sentient darkspawn. Loghain pulled her closer, offering what comfort he could. "We may have to lead an expedition into the Deep Roads to search for him," she continued. "I'm sure Velanna would be more than happy for something to do regarding the Architect."

"Indeed," Loghain agreed, extinguishing the lamp and leading Lhiannon to the door. "Come. You haven't eaten all day. Let us get you a meal and retire for the evening."

* * *

_The landscape around her was dark; no walls to indicate a building. No trees or shrubs to indicate the outdoors, just complete, utter blackness. She looked around, confused by the lack of depth and detail around her._

"_Welcome, Commander."_

_She whirled about, looking behind her to see a figure shuffling slowly toward her, its robes rustling with the movement. She narrowed her eyes at it, recognizing the figure as it approached. The Architect. This was not a memory she had from before; was it a dream?_

"_This is a dream," she snarled at him. "You are nothing but a figment of my dreaming mind."_

"_Not at all. I found you through your blood and our magic. The Fade, I believe it is called. I have done such things before," the Architect said, continuing its slow approach toward her. Lhiannon held up her fists, readying to defend herself with bare hands, if necessary. "That's close enough," she snapped through gritted teeth._

_The Architect stopped, raising its taloned hands in supplication. "I mean you no harm, Commander," he said, his voice smooth and frighteningly calm. "In fact, I wish to help you."_

_Lhiannon scoffed in indignation, his offer of help ludicrous to her ears. "Help me? You have done nothing but use me in your experiments to supposedly free your brethren. Maker knows what damage you have wrought because of your experiments."_

"_My work has produced promising results," the Architect said, lowering his hands to his sides. "I come to you with a sincere offer. I will help you, if you will help me."_

_Crossing her arms over her chest, Lhiannon's eyes narrowed further at the Architect. Whatever his offer was, the price would be too high, of that she was completely certain. "Just what are you offering?" she asked out of curiosity._

_Lhiannon shivered as a smile crossed the Architect's face; at least, it approximated a smile. The gesture looked like one the Architect was completely unfamiliar with, but thought using it would help convey sincerity and benevolence. "I know what you desire deep inside you. It is what your kind always hopes for: procreation. I know Grey Wardens have difficulty with it. I can help you, but in exchange, you must help me by allowing me to study the process." He paused, bringing his taloned hand to his chin, rubbing it in thought. "I have always been fascinated with the process. My subjects do not survive long enough..."_

_Revulsion and fury surged through Lhiannon, aghast at what the Architect proposed. A child would be a wonderful blessing, but not like this and not as a result of his so-called 'work'. She rushed toward the creature, grabbing the front of his rough robes and snarling into his face, his expression remaining passive as his strange eyes looked into hers._

"_You can take your Maker damned 'help' and rot. I would rather be barren for the remainder of my days than allow you to touch me again." Summoning all her power, her body shimmered and swirled before the Architect's eyes. With a whisper, she vanished._

_

* * *

_

Lhiannon's eyes opened, focusing on the canopy of the bed above her. Loghain was at her side, his breathing deep and even. She turned her head to look at him. His hair was splayed across the pillow, a look of quiet peace on his face as his chest gently rose and fell. She slowly rose from the bed, picking up her dressing robe from where it lay pooled on the floor. Slipping it on, she quietly padded to the window, looking out at the snow-covered landscape. The sky was clear and the moon full, bathing the land in its diffuse light, reflecting off the snowy ground. It was so bright; she could easily see the shapes of soldiers patrolling the compound's walls. Refusing the Architect's offer was the right thing to do; she _would_ rather be barren for the remainder of her days than allow herself to be used in the Architect's experiments. He had experimented on Grey Wardens enough.

Lhiannon shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around her. A child would be a wonderful blessing, but as a Grey Warden, she knew the chances of conceiving were small. Instead, it was best to focus on the blessings the Maker had already given her; one of which lay in the nearby bed. Loghain truly was a blessing, perhaps His greatest, and she would be content with that. If the Maker willed for her to have a child, it would come; Alistair and Anora were proof of that.

"Come back to bed."

Loghain's sleepy command broke Lhiannon's train of thought, bringing her back to the present and its blessings. She turned toward the bed and saw Loghain turn onto his side, facing her part of the bed. She slipped her dressing gown off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor once again before crawling under the covers. Loghain pulled her to his side, kissing her softly.

"What were you doing?" he asked, his voice more awake after Lhiannon settled into his embrace.

"I had a dream again. The Architect."

Loghain propped himself up on his elbow, looking down into Lhiannon's face. She looked angry at the recollection of her dream, red splotches high on her cheekbones. "Another memory?"

She shook her head. "No. He came to me with a 'proposal'," she snarled. "He is a monster."

"What kind of proposal?" Loghain asked warily, the hair on the back of his neck beginning to rise. He watched as she set her jaw, her expression becoming stony.

"He said he would help me conceive a child if I would allow him to study me." A snarl crossed her features and Loghain could feel the depth of her anger and revulsion in the taint between them. His growing anger matched hers. "I told him I would rather be barren than to allow him to _touch_ me again."

"The creature will die if he so much as _thinks _about laying a finger on you," Loghain growled.

While Lhiannon lay next to him, Loghain studied her thoughtfully, watching her features begin to soften as he gazed at her. As her anger slowly melted away, he felt some of his follow. He brought a hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his fingers. "I agree with you; the Architect's price is too high."

Her dark eyes locked onto his and she nodded. "My sentiments exactly. If the Maker wills it, it will happen. If not, I shall be content with the other blessings he has given me."

Loghain lay back down, gathering Lhiannon into his arms and gently kissing the top of her head. "As will I."

* * *

"Commander. Several of the nobles have just arrived, seeking an audience with you," Varel said as he entered Lhiannon's office early the next morning. His cheeks were slightly colored; he had rushed up to Lhiannon's office at a run. "They are speaking of the darkspawn moving through their lands; an army of them."

Lhiannon and Loghain had risen not long before, having taken a bath and dressed in simple clothes for the day. They gave each other a worried look before Lhiannon turned back toward Varel. "Have them wait in the audience chamber. Gather the Wardens as well. Loghain and I will be down there as soon as we don our armor."

Varel nodded, turning and quickly rushing out the door and down the stairs, his urgent pace echoing loudly through the Vigil's halls. Lhiannon and Loghain moved to their bedchamber, pulling armor off the racks and helping each other dress as quickly as they could.

"Do you feel anything through the taint?" Lhiannon asked Loghain as she buckled one of his greaves in place while he worked on the other one. He paused and concentrated for a moment before answering. "The taint is moving, awakening. It isn't roaring like it did when the archdemon showed itself, but it is not quiet."

Lhiannon stood, helping Loghain adjust his breastplate before beginning to secure it in place. "I agree. Something is brewing. I like it not." Securing the last of their armor in position, they grabbed their weapons and strapped them into place before quickly moving to the door, Loghain in the lead.

"Loghain," Lhiannon called out as he reached for the door handle. He turned to face her and found his face being pulled to hers, her lips moving softly against his. He opened his mouth to her, bringing his armored hands to the sides of her face as their tongues danced with a desperate passion. He pulled away after a moment, settling his forehead on hers and catching his breath.

"We must go," he said, his voice husky.

"Then we shall continue this later," she agreed, her voice also husky. She stood on her toes to give him a soft kiss before brushing by him and out the door, proceeding toward the audience chamber at a brisk pace.

* * *

"How will you protect us, Commander?" Lord Eddelbrek asked, his voice tinged with concern and desperation. Lhiannon saw that he was slightly disheveled, having traveled to Vigil's Keep in great haste. "There are entire armies of darkspawn moving through the farmlands. We can't wait any longer for you to summon the armies!"

Lhiannon stood before Lord Eddelbrek and the gathered nobles, flanked by both Loghain and Varel. Garavel stood not far away, warily watching the assembled nobility. The Seneschal held up a hand to Eddelbrek, who looked at Varel with narrowed eyes. "This is the Warden Commander's council, Lord Eddelbrek, not yours," Varel gently chastised. "She has the floor."

"Commander, I have lost entire villages to the darkspawn," Eddelbrek said, holding his hands out as he pled for her help. "I need to know how you will help us."

Lhiannon stepped forward and put a hand on Eddelbrek's shoulder. He may be a blunt and direct man, but Lhiannon found that she liked him. He was doing his duty; protecting his people and he had a right to know what his Arlessa was going to do about it. "Lord Eddelbrek, rest assured that I will help you. However, we can't give in to despair now."

Eddelbrek sighed in exasperation. "Forgive me, Commander, but we can't…"

The banging of the main doors to the Vigil rang out, a shout from the guards at the door ringing through the halls. Lhiannon looked up toward the back of the audience hall and saw a small figure running toward them, moving quickly though bundled against the weather. The figure pulled a scarf off, revealing the face of a young elven woman. Her face was flushed with both the cold and exertion, her eyes wide with terror.

"Commander! I bring news from Amaranthine…" she paused, leaning over to catch her breath, her hands on her knees and chest heaving.

"Speak quickly," Loghain demanded. "What news do you bring?"

The elf stood to her full height, her breathing slowing slightly as Anders directed a rejuvenation spell her way. "An army, Your Grace. There is an army within sight of Amaranthine!"

Lhiannon's stomach lurched and her spine turned to ice. "_What?"_

Loghain turned to Varel. "Go summon the King. He needs to hear this."

With a nod, Varel sprinted from the audience chamber to summon Alistair from his guest quarters. It was a scant few minutes later when the King entered the room at a full run, dressed in a plain shirt and trousers but holding his sword and scabbard in his hand. Varel and Anora were just moments behind him. The startled nobles quickly bowed to their King before Alistair impatiently called out for them to rise.

"An army of darkspawn approaches?" Alistair asked, belting his sword around his waist. "Is that why the taint has been so active?"

Lhiannon nodded grimly. "Yes. This messenger just arrived from Amaranthine with news of the darkspawn approaching the city."

Eddelbrek stood before them, shaking his head. "They attack the city already. Maker help us."

"Some of the Vigil's soldiers are already in the city," Varel said, turning his gaze to Eddelbrek from the King. "Amaranthine won't fall easily." He turned to regard the King and Warden Commander, his face set in grim lines. "The armies can't move to Amaranthine fast enough. I can set them on their way, Commander, but a smaller force can get to the city quicker and reinforce the soldiers already there."

Lhiannon nodded quickly to Garavel. "I want to take some soldiers and head to Amaranthine right away then. Can you spare any men?"

Garavel saluted, nodding gravely. "I can have a small squad ready within the hour."

Alistair looked between Garavel and Lhiannon, running his hand through his hair. "I will bring some of my men as well. You won't fight the darkspawn alone."

Eddelbrek looked between them, his eyes wide and face growing pale. "Commander, what you plan is suicide," he gasped.

"Perhaps, but we must try," Loghain said to Eddelbrek, his voice stern and determined.

Lhiannon looked between the men, considering her options. "I will go to Amaranthine. I will need others to stay here and guard the Vigil."

Alistair looked at Lhiannon, pounding his fist into the palm of his hand. "I will go with you to Amaranthine."

Shaking her head emphatically at Alistair, Lhiannon began to protest. "No, Alistair. You need to make haste for Denerim with the Queen. Take your soldiers and leave before the darkspawn arrive."

"No," the King said firmly, raising his hand to Lhiannon when it was clear that she was going to protest. "I did not stand with you during the battle with the Archdemon; I regret that decision every single day. I will not abandon you again. I will go to Amaranthine and fight at your side."

"As will I," Loghain growled.

Lhiannon sighed in defeat, knowing that she would not be able to convince Alistair otherwise. "Then Anders and Nathaniel will also come with us," Lhiannon said, beckoning the two aforementioned Wardens forward. She looked over the remaining Wardens, deciding whom to place in charge while they were gone. She could not trust Oghren to stay sober, and neither Jowan nor Velanna deserved such responsibility as of yet. "Leliana, you will be in charge of the Grey Wardens while I am gone. Work with Varel on the defense of the Vigil. The rest of you are to be ready for anything. You may need to come to Amaranthine and reinforce us." Leliana nodded her assent, moving to Varel's side.

Oghren chuckled from where he stood among the other Grey Wardens. "I'll stay here and protect the ale supplies while you are gone. Just be sure to leave a few darkspawn for ol' Oghren to kick around." Lhiannon sighed; typical reaction from Oghren.

Alistair looked to where Anora stood nearby, her face seemingly calm. Alistair could see the worry lines on her face however, betraying her cool demeanor. "Varel, have some of my soldiers stay with the Queen at all times. Keep her safe."

Varel bowed to the King before turning to the Queen. "We shall protect you to the last man, Your Majesty."

The Queen nodded as Alistair took her hand, leading her toward the door to the audience hall. "Commander, I'll meet you out front as soon as I don my armor."

"Maker watch over us all," Varel intoned before everyone began to scatter to make their preparations.

* * *

The Grey Wardens could see the smoke on the horizon well before they reached Amaranthine. Lhiannon felt the dread settling into her stomach, growing stronger as the taint roiled more violently the closer they drew to the darkspawn. The creatures had clearly been in Amaranthine for some time and Maker only knew if anyone had survived the onslaught. She pushed her horse harder, the other Wardens and mounted soldiers quickly following suit. Although they had made the trip from Vigil's Keep in record time, it appeared that they were still far too late.

They reached the stables outside the city, finding them all but abandoned. Lhiannon leapt from her horse, pushing it into one of the outdoor pens before running toward the gates of the city. She could hear the pounding footsteps of her companions right behind her. Ahead of her, she could hear the ominous sounds of battle. Screams from the people could be heard as well as the snarling of darkspawn and roaring of ogres. The snapping sounds of flames within the city and the smell of rampant corruption assailed her senses.

Lhiannon spotted the first of the darkspawn just outside the city gates, engaged in combat with guards from the city. Not only were there hurlocks, genlocks, and ogres to battle, but also the dreaded childer grubs in all stages of metamorphosis. The soldiers quickly fell upon the darkspawn, their swords flashing and the sounds of screaming darkspawn filling the air an instant later.

Lhiannon looked to her arm as a pair of hands appeared on it, gripping the metal tightly. "Please, Commander," a desperate citizen said, trying to pull her toward a home. "You have to help us save our families."

Loghain approached Lhiannon's side, gently removing the citizen's fingers from Lhiannon's arm. "We _are_ here to help. Let us do our duty."

Constable Aidan was stationed near the city gates, having just run a genlock through with his sword. He heard the approaching soldiers and turned, spotting the Warden Commander and her Grey Wardens draw near. He charged off toward them, appealing to the citizens as he approached. "Please, everyone remain calm while I speak to the Warden Commander!"

The citizen backed away, watching the Grey Wardens and Constable warily. Aidan stopped in front of Lhiannon, giving her a quick salute as he did so. "I am glad you arrived when you did, Commander. However, I fear there is little that you can do for Amaranthine now."

Lhiannon looked about, shaking her head sadly before turning her sharp gaze onto Aidan. "What happened, Constable? I thought you were in charge of Amaranthine's defense!"

Nodding slowly, Aidan lowered his eyes briefly before returning them to Lhiannon's hard stare. "I was. I failed in that duty, Commander. However, believe me when I say there was little chance for success."

"What do you mean?" Loghain growled. "You knew there were reports of darkspawn in the arling. How could you let your defensive preparations lapse so gravely?"

"Warden, there was little more we could do. The outer defenses were secure. However, the darkspawn invaded Amaranthine from within," Aidan explained, gesturing with his hands.

"Explain," Loghain demanded, gritting his teeth in exasperation.

"A couple of nights ago, a swarm of darkspawn began to emerge from beneath the city," Aidan said, nervously fingering the hilt of his sword.

"From beneath the city?" Nathaniel exclaimed. "Where?"

Aidan shook his head. "We're not sure. When they came, they began to spread a plague and corrupted everything they touched. When dawn arrived, more darkspawn attacked in a second wave." Aidan looked between Lhiannon, Loghain, and the King. "Sers, it is too late. Amaranthine is lost, both to the darkspawn and to the plague they brought with them."

Alistair pointed angrily at the city, gritting his teeth at the Constable. "Amaranthine is not lost! The city still stands!"

"The buildings remain, Your Majesty, but little else. The plague the darkspawn brought was so virulent that it took a quarter of the city's population on that first day. Others have succumbed since then. There are few that could have survived this long."

A soldier suddenly appeared at Aidan's side, beckoning their attention. "Your Majesty. Constable. Commander." He pointed off into the distance at a form shuffling toward them. The taint within Lhiannon began to flare and she immediately felt herself becoming defensive. "It's a darkspawn," she growled quietly, her hand going toward the hilt of Spellweaver. She heard the other Grey Wardens draw their weapons and form a semicircle beside her, watching the shuffling figure approach.

"Take it down," Aidan commanded his men. The hiss of metal on metal rang out as the soldiers drew their weapons and brandished them at the creature.

"Peace!" the darkspawn called out, raising his hands in front of him to show he was unarmed. "Do not be killing. Only talk, the Messenger does."

Lhiannon put her hand out, signaling the others to hold their weapons. She turned to regard the sentient darkspawn. "What do you want?"

"The Architect. It has a message for Grey Wardens," the creature hissed through its corrupted flesh. It stopped several feet away from them, watching the soldiers and Grey Wardens warily.

Lhiannon lowered Spellweaver but did not replace it in its scabbard. "Then speak quickly."

The Messenger took another tentative step forward before stopping as Loghain and Alistair held their weapons up in silent threat. "The Mother sends her army to Vigil's Keep. The Mother's army attacks now."

Lhiannon heard Captain Garavel hiss from behind her and swear viciously. She felt a pit form in her stomach and fill with an unspeakable dread. Were they lured here then? "Go on," she said to the creature.

"The Architect sends this creature to warn the Grey Wardens. The Architect wants the Grey Warden to save Vigil's Keep. The Architect wants the Grey Wardens to find the Mother in her lair."

"Why were you sent here?" Loghain demanded, taking a menacing step toward the Messenger and raising his sword threateningly. "You will tell us now or I shall run you through."

The Messenger looked at Loghain warily, taking a step back as if reluctant to engage the imposing Warden. "The Architect wishes to gain the Grey Wardens' trust. The Mother, he does not wish for her to succeed. The Mother wishes to hear the music again."

Garavel turned and looked at Lhiannon, his expression grave. "If we leave now, we may be able to reach the Vigil in time to warn them."

"But what about the darkspawn in Amaranthine?" Aidan asked indignantly. "What do we do with them?"

They all turned to the Messenger as the creature spoke up again. "The Mother's army, it will soon go to Vigil's Keep. The Mother wants it destroyed."

Garavel shook his head in disbelief, snarling as he did so. "As much as I hate to admit it, the darkspawn has a point. We can't leave with the army hot on our heels." Garavel paused, turning to look at the Constable. "Aidan says the city is lost. I recommend we burn the city and all the darkspawn in it; we can then ride for Vigil's Keep. We can't lose both the city and the Vigil."

Lhiannon looked at him in shock and disbelief, soon replaced by a righteous anger. "Burn the city? There could still be survivors in there! I won't leave them to die at the hands of the darkspawn or their plague."

Loghain looked to the King, trading a glance with him before turning his attention to Lhiannon. "Commander," he began firmly, "I agree with Garavel and Aidan. Burning the city, while repugnant, will surely destroy the darkspawn within."

She turned to look at Loghain with disbelief and was about to retort when the King placed a hand on her arm. "Commander," he sighed heavily, "I think Aidan and Garavel are right. You know what the corruption does to people. It has to be stopped here before it can spread. We are too close to Denerim; I have to think about the capital as well."

"I can't believe this," Lhiannon snorted angrily, her furious gaze falling both on Loghain and Alistair. She pointed angrily at the walls of Amaranthine. "Do you really want the blood of those people on your hands? These are _my people _and I won't abandon them!"

"No!" came the desperate protest from the Messenger. "The Mother, she will get what she wants if the Grey Warden stays."

Lhiannon thought quickly for a moment; was there a way to save both Amaranthine and warn Vigil's Keep? Garavel had mentioned that if they left now, they could get back to Vigil's Keep and warn them of the approaching army. She turned to Loghain. "Take four soldiers with you and ride for Vigil's Keep. Warn them that the Mother's army is coming. Prepare the soldiers and the Wardens and make your stand there. Protect the Queen."

Loghain looked at her, his heart beginning to ache. He did not want to leave her, but knew that their best chance to warn Vigil's Keep did not lie with him, but instead with her. "Commander, you should be the one to return to the Vigil."

"No," she protested, fire beginning to bloom in both her eyes and voice. "I am asking you to go. Do not question me on this."

"Lhiannon, you are the smallest and lightest one here," Loghain said, his cool eyes boring into her. "Your horse can get you to Vigil's Keep more swiftly than if it carried myself or the King. Time is of the essence and we must take every advantage we can."

Lhiannon looked from Loghain to Alistair, pleading with her dark eyes. "One of you should go, if nothing _else_ to protect the Queen."

"Lhiannon, there is no one I'd rather have protect Anora than you," Alistair said, looking to Loghain expectantly. Loghain nodded curtly to the King, returning his attention to Lhiannon. "The King is right. If I cannot be there to protect my daughter, I can think of no one better than you. Tell Anora that I love her."

She looked to the ground, fighting back the angry tears. They were both right, of course; Maker damn them both. She _was_ far lighter than they, even in her heavy armor. The horse could move swiftly and not tire as quickly if it carried her. She could also use her magic to rejuvenate the horses as they sped south. It gave them their best chance to protect Vigil's Keep and do what they could for the city of Amaranthine. Reluctantly, she raised her head and nodded at both men.

"Then find me a swift horse. Loghain, you and the King will take Garavel and the soldiers into the city and look for survivors. Get them out; then if you absolutely must, burn the city."

Garavel sighed heavily. "On their own, the darkspawn are never this organized. Something must be leading them within the city. We should find the leaders and destroy them. Once they are defeated, we can concentrate on the survivors."

The Messenger still stood nearby, listening to the plans of the Grey Wardens. Loghain turned and looked at it. "What shall be done with…that creature?"

Lhiannon turned and gave the Messenger a hard gaze. "Fight for us and you shall be spared. Help us defeat the leaders in the city."

Nodding, the Messenger agreed. "This creature will help Grey Wardens."

Alistair turned to Lhiannon, pulling her into a brief, tight hug. "Good luck, Commander. Maker watch over you. Tell Anora that I love her and our child."

"I will. Maker watch over us all," she agreed, sprinting toward the stables with Loghain at her heels. They reached the stable where several of the Vigil's soldiers were already waiting, a horse pulled aside for their Commander. Before she mounted the horse, Lhiannon turned to Loghain. She looked into his cool blue eyes, losing herself in them for a brief moment before turning her head away, closing her eyes tightly against the sting of bitter tears. The possibility of not seeing those blue eyes again brought a crushing anguish upon her. Loghain pulled off his gauntlets, dropping them to the ground as he reached for Lhiannon's face, gently turning her head so she faced him and resting his forehead on hers. After a moment he pulled away and saw the tears welling in her eyes. He found himself fighting a lump in his throat and burning in his own eyes. He reached down and pulled her gauntlets off, holding her hands in his and gently stroking the silverite band on her finger.

"Whatever happens, know that I love you with all my heart," he whispered, fearing that if he spoke louder his voice would crack. Lhiannon needed his strength and bravery now and he was determined to give it to her. He stroked the band on her finger, bringing it to his lips. His eyes closed briefly as he held her hand to his face.

"My heart shall always be yours," she said, a single tear escaping her eye to run down her cheek. Her shoulders hitched as she took a shaky breath. Loghain wiped her tear away with his thumb, lowering his lips to hers in a brief, tender kiss.

"I love you, Lhiannon. Maker watch over you."

"And I love you, Loghain. Maker keep you safe."

Loghain boosted Lhiannon up onto her horse and handed her gauntlets to her. She brushed his cheek with her fingers one last time before turning her horse and racing off toward Vigil's Keep, the soldiers right behind her. Loghain watched her retreating figure for a brief moment before picking up his gauntlets and returning to the city gates.

Darkspawn be damned.

* * *

_I'm feeling a little melancholy right now...you know what this chapter means...it's the beginning of the end. Not to worry, Chapter 1 of the sequel is well underway and Chapter 2 has begun. :)_

_Thanks to reviewers Aura of Darkness Night, Shakespira, Nithu, Enaid Aderyn, Arsinoe, and TG2000. ______Icey and Gene...I know you're out there...don't want to forget you two! :)_

_As always, thanks to you readers and lurkers, and those who bookmark and favorite the story. I hope to see you all again for the sequel...which I do think will be called "Retribution", unless the muse comes up with something more creative. She's a fickle thing. _


	46. Wave After Wave

Loghain approached the King, Captain Garavel, and the other Wardens, donning his gauntlets and pulling his sword from its scabbard. Fighting alongside the King was not exactly what he had in mind, but it had to be done. Whatever differences were between them would not stand between Loghain and his duty to Lhiannon or the Grey Wardens.

"The Commander is on her way to Vigil's Keep," he informed them, forcing down the lump in his throat. Alistair noticed that Loghain's eyes were shiny and slightly bloodshot. He could not help but understand how Loghain must have felt. The King was loathe to send Lhiannon off, but she was their best hope for getting word back to Vigil's Keep of the imminent arrival of the Mother's army. In that respect, Loghain had been right; every second counted now and she could get to the Vigil faster.

Constable Aidan approached Loghain, Alistair, and Garavel, pointing toward the roof of the Chantry within the walls of Amaranthine. "Many of the survivors of the initial assault took refuge in the Chantry. When last I checked, the darkspawn had not breached it; the survivors should be safe, unless they brought the plague in with them."

"We shall try to root out the darkspawn so that they can be rescued," Loghain said. "We can give no promises."

"I understand, Warden," Aidan nodded.

"Well," Alistair said, settling his golden helmet on his head and turning to Loghain. "I have been looking forward to killing darkspawn again. Let's say we get to it, shall we?"

Loghain scoffed, turning back toward the Messenger, who had been lurking nearby; close enough to talk to, yet far enough away to not be a distraction or cause undo tension. "Messenger," he barked at the creature, who raised his corrupted head to regard Loghain. "Can you direct us to the darkspawn commanders within the city?"

"The Messenger, it can do this," it said, pulling a wicked notched sword from the scabbard at its side. "The Messenger, it can lead you to them. It can help you fight them."

"Then you shall take the lead," Loghain said, beckoning the Messenger forward. The creature, for all the shuffling it did approaching them earlier, was deceptively fast on its feet. It took the lead, setting a relentless pace into the streets of Amaranthine. Soldiers were fighting everywhere, taking on masses of darkspawn while buildings and carts burned around them. The screams of the dying could be heard from all corners of the city; soldiers and darkspawn dying from the injuries inflicted on each other and civilians in the last stages of the plague, clawing at their own skin as if trying to free themselves of it. Loghain shoved his fear and revulsion aside, focusing on the darkspawn ahead. His sword flashed in his hand, his measured swings meant to do as much damage as possible while conserving his stamina. He occasionally felt the tickle of Anders' healing magic race across his skin and heard the twang of Nathaniel's bow behind him.

The King, in his golden armor, fought like a man possessed. He often dispatched darkspawn with only two or three well placed swings from his sword. When the darkspawn became thick ahead of them, the King and Loghain would stand at the point with their shields nearly touching, holding off the darkspawn as Anders cast offensive spells. Nathaniel had taken to a higher vantage point on the rooftops, picking off the darkspawn emissaries that lurked behind the hurlocks and genlocks before their magic could inflict serious damage.

The Messenger fought nearby, snarling and hissing at the darkspawn around them. There were a few darkspawn that had ignored him, sensing him as brethren until the Messenger would bury his wicked sword into them. The other darkspawn around it would them fall upon the Messenger, attacking with their mishmash of weapons, snarling and screaming as they fought.

The Grey Wardens had circled through the city, approaching the Chantry when Loghain turned toward the Messenger. "Where are those damned leaders?" he snarled at the creature. Loghain's armor was covered in ichor and dark blood ran down his face and dripped off his sword. "Why haven't you directed us to them?"

The Messenger slashed through a childer grub, separating its head and gnashing teeth from the remainder of its corrupted and bloated body. It turned to regard Loghain. "The Messenger, it can sense them. But too many darkspawn near. The Messenger, it is hard for it to find them. Close, we are."

As the Grey Wardens rounded a corner and approached the Chantry, a soldier saw them coming and moved toward them, startled at the presence of the King before him. He bowed to the King and Grey Wardens, his face wearing a grim expression.

"Your Majesty. Wardens. We have received word that another wave of darkspawn are approaching the city."

Alistair slammed his hand into the wall beside them in frustration. "Andraste's blood! When are they going to arrive?"

"Within a day, Your Majesty."

Loghain looked about, sighing heavily at the destruction around him. "Are you sure they are headed here, or could they be heading to Vigil's Keep?"

The soldier shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. "We can't say for certain. It appears they are headed here, but could break off and head for Vigil's Keep."

"We'll work on the assumption that they are headed here," Alistair said, looking up at the Chantry. "What of the survivors?"

"They are in the Chantry, Your Majesty," the guard said, indicating the building behind them. "The militia has also set up our base of operations there. You are welcome to rest and resupply with us."

Loghain nodded. "This would be a good opportunity to rest; for the moment, the darkspawn have fallen quiet. Alert us at the first sign of renewed activity." Turning toward the Messenger, Loghain barked out a command. "Messenger, remain here. If you sense the darkspawn or their generals moving closer, alert the guard." After receiving an acknowledgment from the Messenger, he sheathed his sword and began to mount the steps to the Chantry, Anders and Nathaniel close behind. Alistair paused at the bottom of the steps.

"Shouldn't we continue trying to find these leaders, strike them while the iron is hot?" Alistair asked Loghain's retreating form. Loghain stopped, looking over his shoulder and down to where the King stood at the bottom of the steps, his eyes narrowing as he saw the King's glare. "You would do well to seek healing and rest now, before the darkspawn return. You'll be no help to anyone if you are weak and exhausted."

As Loghain resumed mounting the steps to the Chantry, Alistair scoffed and shook his head. "Bloody stubborn man, always thinking he knows what's best," he grumbled, following the other Grey Wardens into the Chantry. "Who's the bloody King here?"

Loghain's argument made sense, but Alistair would never admit that to anyone other than himself.

* * *

A cold rain had begun to fall as Lhiannon raced the final distance to Vigil's Keep. The rain falling on the melting snow caused a fog to form, obscuring Lhiannon's vision. She could not see more than several horse lengths in front of her, but she knew from the landmarks that the Vigil was close. Not long before she began to hear ominous noises emanating from the fog leading away from the Vigil; the sounds of many feet pounding the earth and the roaring of darkspawn. They were not right on top of the Vigil, but they were drawing closer and would be there before long.

After what seemed like an eternity, the gates of the Vigil loomed high overhead. They were closed and she could barely see a sentry atop the battlements, looking anxiously into the distance.

"Open the gate!" she shouted, bringing her horse to a stop just before the gate. "The Warden Commander seeks entrance!"

The soldier atop the battlement called down to another soldier and slowly the gate began to rise. Lhiannon rushed through, her soldiers right on her heels. As soon as they had passed through, the gate was lowered again and barred. Lhiannon guided her horse toward the main steps of the Vigil, leaping off and running up at top speed, skipping steps as she climbed. She burst through the doors and ran into the main audience hall.

Varel was there in his heavy chain armor, giving directions to a number of soldiers, who hurried off to obey his orders. The Queen was also there, flanked by several guards; she looked a bit put out to be surrounded by the guards, but that was not unlike her. Their heads quickly turned toward her at the sound of the doors banging open. Lhiannon sprinted across the hall, screeching to a stop before a surprised Varel.

"Commander? What are you doing back here?"

Lhiannon put her hands on her knees, working to calm her heaving chest. "The darkspawn…are coming…nearly here."

"What?" Varel exclaimed, looking at Lhiannon with a dawning horror. "We have been preparing for them, but they are nearly here?"

Lhiannon nodded, her breaths still coming in great gasps. "I heard them…as I approached. They can't be more than…a few hours out."

Anora rushed forward, looking at Lhiannon with narrowed eyes. "What of Alistair and my Father? Where are they?"

"They are fighting the darkspawn in Amaranthine. The city is devastated."

"And you just _left_ them there?" she cried, her voice full of fury. Lhiannon raised her head and glared at the Queen.

"They are the ones that sent me to warn the Vigil of the darkspawn army's approach. I ordered your father to come, but he said that the horse could get me here faster since I am smaller and lighter than either him or Alistair." She narrowed her eyes at the Queen, pulling herself up to her full height. "They told me to protect you. That there was no one else they wanted to have by your side. And that they love you and your child."

Anora stood down, nodding grimly at Lhiannon. "Yes, I can hear my father telling you such." She raised her eyes back at Lhiannon, a grim determination in them. "I am glad to have you as my protector, Warden Commander."

Lhiannon turned to Varel. "Have you moved the citizens to safety?"

"Yes, Commander," Varel confirmed. "They are here in the Vigil. We have them housed in the dining hall and training areas."

"What of the soldiers?"

Varel nodded again. "Sergeant Maverlies and the archers are positioned atop the walls, watching for anything that comes close. Dworkin Glavonak has also 'cooked up something special' for the darkspawn."

"'Something special'?" Lhiannon said, furrowing her brows in confusion. She knew Dworkin was often called "Dworkin the Mad", so the revelation that he had 'something special' planned made her apprehensive to say the least.

"Some of those exploding packets he has been toying with," Varel said, shaking his head. "I always thought he was being foolish with them, but perhaps they will serve a purpose."

Lhiannon turned to Varel, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've done well preparing the Vigil, Varel. I am grateful to have you as Seneschal."

Varel nodded his appreciation, placing his hand on Lhiannon's shoulder. "And it has been an honor to serve you, Commander. I hope to continue serving you for many years."

"Maker willing, you shall," Lhiannon agreed. She turned toward the Queen and her bodyguards. "Secure the Queen. The darkspawn will be here shortly."

* * *

The Revered Mother moved through the gathered citizens and soldiers, praying with those who requested it and giving her blessings and comfort to those who needed it. When she caught sight of the Grey Wardens and the King, she came to their side, beseeching them for help—both against the darkspawn and with their coffers. Loghain bristled to himself. _The darkspawn lay waste to the city and you want tithes? Unbelievable. _

When the Revered Mother's gaze fell upon Alistair a dark look crossed her face, which left the King slightly confused. Why would she glare at him like that? Before she moved off to tend to others, she left the King with a quiet, cryptic message: "You must pray to the Maker for His forgiveness. I fear this trial that we face was forced upon us by the Maker because of the recent actions the Crown has taken." Loghain's sharp ears caught the Revered Mother's words; he raised his eyes from where he had been adjusting a pauldron to look at the King and saw a look of confusion on his face. Loghain reached out and grabbed hold of the Revered Mother's arm, her sharp gaze falling upon him. "I do not know what it is you insinuate, but you would do well to keep such thoughts to yourself." Loghain released his hold on the Revered Mother's arm and she quickly moved away. Before Alistair could ask what either one of them meant, a soldier burst through the door, sprinting to where he saw the King and Grey Wardens.

"Sers! The darkspawn are breaking through into the city again."

Loghain traded looks with Alistair and the other Grey Wardens. "Where are they coming from?" he asked curtly, pulling his gauntlets onto his hands.

"They are coming from the inn," the soldier said.

"It must be those smuggler tunnels," Nathaniel surmised, rubbing his chin in thought. "That must be where they are coming from."

"Tunnels?" Alistair asked, confusion on his face. "There are tunnels there? Nothing good ever comes from a tunnel."

"Indeed," Loghain agreed, turning back toward the soldier. "You and your men stay here and defend the people. We will investigate."

The soldier gave Loghain and the King a salute, moving off to have his injuries tended to. Loghain motioned for the Grey Wardens and King to follow, pulling his sword and shield as they exited the Chantry and made their way toward the inn.

The darkspawn were spilling out of the inn in droves, masses of hurlocks, genlocks, emissaries, and children. The soldiers outside the inn were very nearly overran until Anders cast a spell of fire, sweeping his hands in front of him and directing the flames at the darkspawn. The hisses and growls of the darkspawn were quickly replaced by screeches and screams as they caught fire and burned. Nathaniel once again climbed to the roof of a nearby building, firing arrows into the ranks of the darkspawn while Loghain and Alistair used brute force to subdue them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Loghain spotted the Messenger heading for the door of the inn, bursting through it with a hiss of rage. Loghain pulled his sword from the body of a hurlock and motioned for the others to join him. "Hurry! To the inn!" Nathaniel scrambled down from the roof of the building he had perched on, exchanging his bow for his daggers as he ran toward the door. The King and Anders were close behind.

When they entered the inn, they found the Messenger engaged in battle with another sentient darkspawn dressed in similar clothing and wielding a crude but vicious two handed axe. It swung the axe wildly, keeping the Messenger at bay while other darkspawn tried to attack. Children in various stages of transformation were around him and quickly swarmed after the Grey Wardens and the King as they entered the inn. Anders switched to entropy spells, attempting to defeat the darkspawn through weakness and debilitation rather than through primal spells in such close quarters. Nathaniel turned to flank the creatures Loghain and Alistair engaged, coming around from behind and sinking his daggers into their flesh while they were busy engaging the warriors.

Loghain pulled his sword from the chest of a dead hurlock and turned to see the Messenger being overpowered by the other sentient darkspawn. Raising his shield, he charged at the darkspawn from the creature's blind side, knocking it to the ground with his bulk and momentum. The axe fell from the creature's hand with a loud thud; Loghain kicked it out of the creature's reach. The Messenger was quickly on his feet and stabbing the darkspawn with his sword, his hisses ringing through the tavern. Loghain changed the grip of his sword, holding it pointed down and with both hands, and shoved it through the chest of the darkspawn, feeling it twitch beneath him as it drew its last breath. Loghain pulled the sword from the darkspawn's chest and turned to regard his companions.

The other darkspawn within the room were either dead or dying, the King checking the fallen creatures and running his sword through any that still lived. Anders began to chant a healing spell, the tickle of the magic racing over everyone's skin. Nathaniel pulled his daggers from the chest of a genlock that he had tackled, running the blades across the creature's armor in an attempt to remove the ichor from his blades.

"This one, this was a disciple general," the Messenger hissed from his place next to the dead darkspawn. "The Messenger senses another one close by."

A series of thumps could be heard from a back room of the inn. Anders turned to the Grey Wardens. "Sounds like something coming up from the tunnels to see what's going on here. Darkspawn surely aren't the sharpest tools in the shed. If I heard the sounds of a nasty fight, I'd be going the _other_ way; but that's just me. I happen to like living."

"Then we take the fight to the tunnels," Loghain said, leading the others to the room where the trap door to the tunnels lay. A genlock burst forth from the broken door, rushing toward the Grey Wardens. Loghain simply held his sword out and let the creature impale itself on it, kicking it off with his boot before pulling the remains of the trap door open.

"Alistair and I go first. The Messenger follows. Anders and Nathaniel will follow last," Loghain ordered, lowering himself into the tunnel before anyone could speak, holding his shield at the ready and sword pointed down the hall in case any darkspawn foolishly tried to rush them as they entered the tunnel. When everyone was in position, they began to creep down the tunnels toward the massing darkspawn.

* * *

"Commander! The children are attacking the east wall. We must reinforce them!"

Lhiannon pulled her sword from a dead darkspawn and wiped the blood and ichor from her eyes. The darkspawn had arrived hours ago; or was it days? Lhiannon had fought so many darkspawn that the passage of time seemed to go unnoticed. They came in seemingly unending waves. The smoke from the fires burning throughout the compound obscured much of the sky and at times it was difficult to tell if it was day or night. She turned to Sigrun and Jowan, motioning them to her. "Come on! We're needed at the east wall!" They took off at a sprint toward the wall, Jowan speaking the words to a spell Lhiannon did not recognize as they ran. His words were Dalish; weaving a spell that Velanna had obviously taught him.

Darkspawn children had massed along the east wall, fighting the soldiers nearby and transforming into higher forms with frightening speed. Sergeant Maverlies and her archers were raining arrows down on the children from atop the wall surrounding the compound. Suddenly, masses of roots erupted from the ground, enveloping the children in their thorny embrace. Not a moment later larger and more massive roots erupted from the ground, impaling numerous children as they rose high into the air. Lhiannon heard Velanna's piercing chant from nearby as even more roots erupted from the ground. Lhiannon and Sigrun rushed forward, stabbing at the children with their blades as they were held motionless by Jowan and Velanna's spells. The nearby soldiers joined in, stabbing at the children until the ground was black with their ichor and their screams faded into nothingness.

Lhiannon turned to see Zevran rushing toward her. The elf was bruised and bleeding from numerous wounds. She quickly cast a healing spell on him as he approached. "Commander," he said, nodding his thanks to Lhiannon. "The courtyard is overrun with darkspawn. We must fall back to the gates to push them back."

Lhiannon nodded, indicating for her Wardens to follow him. "Get on top of the buildings, Zev. You and Leliana can do the most damage from there with your bows. Pick off any emissaries first."

"Oh, and miss out on killing the darkspawn with my own hands?" Zevran tsked, drawing a small grin from Lhiannon. "_Molto bene_, my lovely Commander. I shall shoot them instead from the rooftops. They shall never see my arrows coming!"

Lhiannon and her Wardens raced toward the gates to reinforce the soldiers there. More children were there, along with more genlocks and hurlocks, their vast numbers threatening to overrun the soldiers defending the gates. Velanna and Jowan began casting nature spells again, capturing darkspawn within their writhing masses of roots while the soldiers stabbed at the immobilized creatures. She looked to the gates, seeing another wave of darkspawn approaching at a run. Quickly raising her hand, she summoned a greasy slick, aiming it just inside the gates, where it landed on the ground with a heavy, wet thud. Jowan saw what she had done and quickly changed his spell, conjuring up a fireball and sending it flying into the slick as the darkspawn approached. With a roar, the slick burst into flames, burning the darkspawn as they ran through it. Their hisses and squeals of pain assaulted Lhiannon's ears. She saw other darkspawn approaching the gates and cast another greasy spell, the burning flames from the first one igniting the liquid as it landed near the gates, burning the masses of darkspawn that tried to pass through it. The leading line of darkspawn quickly caught fire and fell, writhing as they burned. The lines behind them kept pushing forward, trapping more of the creatures in the flames and creating a burning mass of bodies that helped keep the creatures at bay for the moment.

Seeing the promising effect the burning slick had upon the darkspawn, Lhiannon ran toward a ladder leading to the top of the wall surrounding the compound. Sergeant Maverlies was at the top, raining arrows down on the darkspawn that approached the walls. Her supply of arrows was dwindling fast; they had to make each one count now. Lhiannon scrambled off the ladder, running to the Sergeant's side.

"Maverlies," Lhiannon began, indicating the approaching wave of darkspawn on the other side of the wall. "Light some arrows on fire. I will conjure a grease slick outside the walls. When it lands, light it."

Maverlies quickly nodded her understanding and turned toward her pile of arrows, grabbing one and lighting the end on fire in a nearby torch. When the flames caught, Lhiannon chanted the spell, the thick, viscous substance flying from her outstretched hand to land among the trees and darkspawn a number of yards outside the walls. Lhiannon moved her hand from side to side, spreading the grease over as wide an area as possible.

"Now!" she shouted to Maverlies, who shot her flaming arrow directly into the center of the grease. It lit with a roar, lighting up the landscape around them and setting dozens of the creatures on fire. Their screams filled the air in a near deafening cacophony.

Lhiannon gasped as the light from the fires revealed many more darkspawn off in the distance, closing in on the Vigil fast. She hoped the summoned armies arrived soon while there was still a fortress left to defend.

* * *

Loghain grimaced in pain and swore viciously as the lightning spell from the disciple general ran across his heavy armor, stinging and burning his body as he fought several genlocks at once. The tickle of healing spells constantly ran over his skin since he and the others had entered the tunnels. There were a number of traps the darkspawn had set and several of them had been sprung by their descent into the tunnels until Nathaniel could disarm the last few. By then, however, the darkspawn had fallen upon them and disarming the traps was almost a moot point.

The Messenger launched itself at the disciple general, disrupting the latest spell that the creature was casting. Loghain moved to assist the darkspawn but saw that the King was already at the Messenger's side, working to flank the disciple and kill it before it could begin casting again. The disciple roared in pain as the King's sword sliced into the corrupted skin in the creature's back, black ichor raining down onto the floor of the chamber.

Loghain was pushing a dead hurlock off his sword when he heard a startled shout from behind him. Turning around, he saw Anders surrounded by a number of darkspawn, slashing at him with their weapons and the mage barely holding them off. He was using his staff to block the blows from the darkspawn swords, but it was clear that he would be overpowered within moments. Loghain rushed forward, roaring a battle cry that momentarily stunned the creatures, allowing Anders a brief moment to retreat. As he fled, he began chanting a spell of lightning, aiming at the nearest darkspawn. The bolt jumped to several other creatures, weakening as it traveled but still stunning the darkspawn. Loghain was quickly next to Anders, shielding him with his armored body and striking at the darkspawn with precise swings from his sword.

"Anders, stay behind me," Loghain shouted over his shoulder, slamming his shield into an approaching hurlock and knocking it to the ground, where Anders promptly killed it with a magical bolt to the creature's head. "Cast your spells around me, if you can."

"On it," Anders acknowledged, his arm coming around Loghain and shooting more magical bolts at approaching darkspawn. Once it became clear that Loghain was having little difficulty holding the darkspawn at bay, Anders cast a healing spell on him, healing the burning, weeping flesh under his ichor streaked armor. Loghain nodded his thanks, looking toward where Alistair and the Messenger were still battling the disciple general and several other darkspawn. Suddenly, Nathaniel appeared out of his stealthed state, his daggers held high momentarily before he buried both of them to the hilt in the disciple general's neck and twisted. The general roared in outrage and pain, his current spell broken.

"Nathaniel, move back!" Alistair shouted. As Nathaniel quickly jumped back with his daggers, Alistair ran the general through with his sword, the end of the weapon coming out of the creature's back and streaked with ichor. The disciple fell to its knees, hissing in outrage before it toppled forward and was still. Alistair, not wanting to take any chances, plunged his sword into the general's back to ensure that it was dead. Without the disciple general to lead them, the coordinated efforts of the remaining darkspawn soon fell to chaos and the Grey Wardens quickly dispatched them.

Anders began casting a healing spell as Loghain and Alistair surveyed the bodies around them. "Did we get them all?" the King asked, pulling his sword from the disciple's back and shaking the ichor off it, a grimace on his face. "Ugh...as much as I enjoy killing the darkspawn, I forgot how utterly disgusting they can be."

"No, not all," the Messenger breathed, his voice hissing heavily in its obvious exhaustion. "This one, it senses one more disciple." It pointed toward the other tunnel leading out of the chamber; the one leading to the abandoned shack just outside Amaranthine's city gates. "This one, it thinks the disciple is there." It paused in its thoughts and Loghain thought he saw a trouble expression cross the Messenger's corrupted features.

"What else?" Loghain barked, staring intently into the disconcerting red eyes of the Messenger. The creature shook his head slightly, his brow furrowing. "The Messenger, it is not sure. On the surface, something else. Big."

"Andraste's flaming sword," Alistair spat, his voice slightly muffled by the heavy helmet he wore. "Something big? Aren't the darkspawn all full up of 'something big'?"

Loghain snorted irritably before he turned and marched for the exit to the abandoned shack. "It does not matter. It needs to die and we shall deliver it." They quickly climbed the stairs and exited through the trap door into the abandoned hut. They heard the sounds of more fighting from outside. Anders began to prepare another primal spell as they exited the hut. Nathaniel quickly scrambled to the roof of a small hut nearby, surveying the battle ahead.

"Andraste's blood," he swore, turning his attention to the Grey Wardens on the ground. "The Messenger was right. There is another disciple general out there; it's another emissary." He turned back to the battlefield, eyes squinting as he studied the landscape ahead of them.

"Well, that's not so bad," Anders replied, pausing in his chant. Nathaniel's eyes suddenly went wide and he whipped his head back toward the Grey Wardens. Loghain watched his face blanch.

"Nathaniel, what is it?" Loghain barked. "What do you see?"

"An ogre," he breathed, "but not just any ogre. It's heavily armored. It's cutting through the ranks of the soldiers like they aren't even there."

"Well, I know it isn't Tuesday, but we may have to move up the scheduled ritual dismemberments to today," Alistair quipped from beside Loghain, who scoffed at the King. _Must he insist on joking? Maric's son indeed._

"Anders, prepare the most powerful spell you have," Loghain ordered, turning toward Nathaniel. "Nathaniel, take out as many of the darkspawn around it as you can. We don't need to be swarmed with them when we battle the ogre."

"Got it," Nathaniel agreed, pulling an arrow from his quiver and readying it in his bow.

Loghain turned toward the Messenger and Alistair. "The ogre falls to us. Whoever isn't directly engaging the creature needs to be flanking it, trying to disable it an any way possible. Try to land your blades between its plates."

"Let's hope the darkspawn are still poor craftsman," Alistair said grimly, earning a knowing nod from Loghain. Readying his sword and shield, Loghain rounded the corner from the abandoned shack and led the Messenger and the Grey Wardens into the path of the armored ogre. The creature saw them and roared, immediately launching itself at the companions. It had closed half the distance when suddenly a column of fire appeared to descend from the sky, landing directly on the armored ogre. Loghain turned to see Anders' hands and staff swirling over his head in a complicated pattern, sweat streaming down his face as he poured all his magical energies into the spell.

The ogre roared as it burned, the smell of burning corruption hanging heavy in the air. As the ogre burned, other darkspawn raced for the Grey Wardens, attempting to break their line so that they could reach Anders. Nathaniel stood on a nearby roof, picking off the creatures with his bow while the others charged, running the darkspawn through with swords and bludgeoning them with shields.

After several moments, Loghain saw the column of flame enveloping the ogre began to narrow before fading from view. He saw Anders quickly drain two lyrium flasks before he turned toward the ogre, shouting for Alistair and the Messenger to attack. They quickly surrounded the ogre, whom Loghain was grateful to see was not as heavily armored as he had feared. Gaps between the crudely tied together plates offered direct access to the ogre's flesh. "Aim for the gaps!" he shouted to Alistair and the Messenger. The ogre turned toward Loghain at the sound of his shout, lunging forward and ramming into Loghain's shield. Loghain stumbled backwards but was able to keep on his feet only through sheer willpower. His shield bore the brunt of the force, bending around his arm noticeably.

While the ogre was distracted by Loghain, Alistair dropped his own shield and gripped his sword with both hands, turning the grip so the sword pointed down. He aimed for a gap in the armor just under the helmet, a gap that exposed part of the ogre's meaty neck. With a roar, Alistair ran at the ogre, brandishing his sword as he leaped. His aim was true, burying the sword to nearly the hilt in the ogre's flesh at the base of its skull.

The ogre roared in outrage, trying to reach the sword and the King that hung on stubbornly. Loghain took advantage of the ogre's distraction, plunging his own sword into a gap just above the creature's breastplate. The Messenger also slashed at the ogre's side, opening wounds that sprayed black ichor. The ogre swung about in circles as if trying to run away from the pain the swords inflicted. Alistair let go of his sword, rolling away as the ogre brought his fist swinging around, narrowly missing the King.

Anders breathed another spell of fire, directing it at the ogre as it flailed, its movements weakening rapidly. After another moment of roaring and flailing, the ogre fell to its knees before falling forward, the King's sword protruding from its flesh.

Breathing heavily, Loghain looked about and saw that Amaranthine's soldiers were routing the remaining darkspawn after having defeated the other disciple general. The surviving darkspawn quickly turned and began to flee, many of them falling as arrows from archers harried them and landed into their flesh.

"Warden Loghain!" a voice called out excitedly. Loghain turned to see Captain Garavel approaching at a run, his face flushed with exertion and excitement. "The darkspawn are retreating."

Loghain sheathed his sword, looking about at the damage around them. Darkspawn bodies lay scattered among the debris of the city, the bodies of soldiers and civilians also visible amongst the devastation.

"What about the city? Have you brought the survivors to safety?" Loghain asked, feeling the tickle of Anders' healing spell race across his skin.

Garavel nodded. "Constable Aidan is leading them to safety now." His face turned grim as he regarded Loghain. "Much of the city is either burning or blighted. Aidan doesn't know what, if anything, can be saved."

Loghain thought back to Lhiannon's last orders before leaving for Vigil's Keep; burn the city, if absolutely necessary. He turned toward where the King stood talking to Anders and Nathaniel, calling Alistair and the Wardens over. Lifting the front of his helmet to rest on the top of his head, Alistair bounded forward to stand next to Loghain and Garavel, who gave a salute to the King. Anders and Nathaniel were quickly standing among them.

"What is it, Loghain?" the King asked.

"Garavel and Aidan say much of Amaranthine is either burning or blighted. He is unsure of what can be saved."

Nodding grimly, Alistair looked around Garavel and through the gates of Amaranthine. "The Warden Commander's orders were to get what survivors we could out of the city and then burn it if necessary. I'd like to see what can be saved before we issue that command." Alistair returned his gaze to Garavel. "Can we take a quick run through the city? See what we're dealing with?"

Garavel nodded, "Yes, Your Majesty. We will do that."

"Let the Wardens make that run; we will be immune to the plague. Has any word arrived from Vigil's Keep?" Loghain asked, his thoughts turning to the Warden Commander and the approaching darkspawn army. Dread and a feeling that time was quickly running out settled into his gut.

"We haven't heard much, but what we are hearing isn't good. The darkspawn army is engaging the forces within the Vigil itself; that is all we know."

"Then we need to make haste through Amaranthine and return to the Vigil," Loghain said, turning toward the city gates and beckoning the others to follow.

Garavel nodded, turning his gaze onto the Messenger, who loitered nearby. "What shall we do with the Messenger?"

Loghain stopped in his tracks, turning his gaze to the Messenger; the creature was following them into the city. "He will accompany us back to Vigil's Keep. Now, let us quickly go through Amaranthine so we can leave for Vigil's Keep with all haste."

_And hope we're not too late._

* * *

_Here are my thoughts on Loghain and Alistair being only a little snarky with each other: when you're fighting masses of darkspawn, you don't have time to be snarky. You just kill things. They had the same goal this chapter: kill as many darkspawn as possible and follow the Warden Commander's orders. Sure, Alistair is the King and can do what he wants, but he hasn't been out fighting on the front lines in some time. I think he will tend to defer to the stronger personality in these situations until he is more hardened as King. He'd better hurry though.  
_

_I've been playing Assassins Creed: Brotherhood lately, hence, all the archers on the rooftops. I just love having Ezio on the rooftops with his crossbow, picking off enemies. *Sigh* Good times. :) Of course, that all ends when DA2 arrives in my mailbox. It will be tricky to schedule story time in with playing time, but I'll do my best!_

_Special thanks to reviewers Aura of Darkness Night, Gene Dark (thanks for the ideas...it's getting to be time to start using them!), Shakespira, Dante Alighieri, icey cold, Arsinoe de Blassenville. and TG2000. I very much enjoy all your reviews (and PM's too!). Keep 'em coming (please)!  
_

_Thanks to you readers and those who have bookmarked and made the story a favorite! If you haven't reviewed, I'd love to hear from you.  
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_Update on the sequel: I'm pretty certain it will be called "Retribution". Chapters one and two are underway. Come on, little muse, keep on whispering in my ear!  
_


	47. Ill Omens

The bloated, red moon had just come over the horizon, its sickly glow echoing the dread that had wrapped icy fingers around Loghain's heart. No matter how much he tried to quash his nervousness and anxiety, he efforts proved unsuccessful. The steady mantra of _hurry, hurry, hurry_ fluttered about in his mind like an insect caught in a web. He, the other Grey Wardens, and the Messenger had left Amaranthine not long ago, setting a punishing, near panicked pace for Vigil's Keep. The Grey Wardens had been unnerved as the Messenger produced his mount, a great bereskarn with a crude saddle set between the large spines on its back. The horses had balked at the sight, so the Messenger opted to ride well behind the Grey Wardens so as not to spook the horses any more than they already were.

As they raced south, the taint in Loghain's blood began to seethe and boil not unlike it did when the battle in Denerim against the archdemon took place. Masses of darkspawn had to be close by. They would be lucky if they did not have to engage dozens of them before they even reached the gates of Vigil's Keep.

Alistair kicked his horse forward to ride next to Loghain, his fine purple cloak billowing out behind him and flapping noisily in the wind. Loghain nearly snapped at him to remove it to silence their approach, but it would have hardly mattered; the darkspawn would sense them anyway.

"The taint is getting worse," Alistair shouted above the thundering hoof beats of their horses. "We must be drawing closer. I can smell smoke too."

Loghain grunted his agreement, looking at the landmarks as they raced by. "We will be there very soon," he shouted back, turning his head so that Anders, Nathaniel, and the Messenger would also hear. "Be prepared to engage the darkspawn at any time now."

It was shortly thereafter when the first of the straggling darkspawn could be seen lurching toward the fortress. These were the weakest of the darkspawn, lagging behind their brethren and easily dealt with by the Grey Wardens. The smell of smoke began to grow stronger and an ominous orange glow lit the sky in the direction of Vigil's Keep. The sounds of clashing metal, roaring men, and screeching, hissing darkspawn filled the air. As they broke through a thicket of trees and entered a clearing near Vigil's Keep, Loghain had to fight to keep himself in the saddle at what he saw.

Fires raged both inside and outside the walls of the fortress; Loghain quickly thanked the Maker as it looked like the walls were holding, but little good it would do if everything within were reduced to little more than ash. As they drew closer, the wind changed direction and blew acrid smoke into their faces. The wind smelled of corruption and death.

"There's magic in the wind!" Anders shouted, earning a quick glance from Loghain at the head of their pack. "Magical fire. I think those fires outside the city were magically set to hold the darkspawn off!"

The fires outside the walls created a barrier between a mass of darkspawn and the walls themselves. Loghain could see large masses burning within the core of the flames; as they drew closer he could see that the shapes were the charred remains of darkspawn that had been pushed into the flames when the reinforcements had arrived, trapping the darkspawn between the encroaching armies and the flames behind them. Masses of men could be seen battling the darkspawn outside the walls of the Vigil, attempting to draw more of them away from the settlement to be engaged in the open land around it.

Movement near the top of the wall drew Loghain's attention up and he saw a dark substance falling to land with a wet thud on the ground. Flaming arrows quickly followed the dark substance and immediately lit it on fire when they landed within the mass. The roar of the flames nearly drowned out the sounds of battle coming from all sides of the Vigil and the Grey Wardens had to shield their eyes from the sudden brightness.

"One of the mages is casting a grease spell," Anders shouted, blinking tears out of his eyes from the irritation of the smoke combined with the sudden brightness of the flames.

"Then they light it on fire. Brilliant," the King shouted back.

Loghain quickly launched himself from his horse as they drew close to the gates of the Vigil, throwing himself into a mass of darkspawn and bludgeoning them with his shield. He then swung his sword in precise strokes, taking down several of the creatures before their brethren even registered the presence of the Grey Wardens. Alistair and the Messenger were close behind, battling the creatures beside Loghain while Anders and Nathaniel stood a distance away; Anders' casting fire spells while Nathaniel picked off flanking darkspawn with his bow.

They fought dozens of darkspawn outside the gates of the Vigil, slowly moving ever closer as they thinned the ranks of the beasts. Loghain occasionally glanced inside the walls, searching for a familiar face or the intimate feel in the taint that was Lhiannon. There were so many darkspawn about, however, that even sensing the particular feel of the Wardens immediately next to him was difficult. The sounds of battle were raging inside the walls as they drew ever closer.

A tremendous roar emanated from the interior of the keep, drawing Loghain's attention to an enormous armored ogre that was laying waste to a number of soldiers that had surrounded it. Among the soldiers was a flash of bright armor and Loghain spotted the bloodied and battered form of Seneschal Varel swinging his great sword at the darkspawn around him. His armor was streaked with gore and he appeared to be bleeding from a large gash on his head, turning his steely hair red on one side. He was shouting for the soldiers to gather around him and push the darkspawn back when the ogre suddenly charged for the seneschal. Loghain watched in horror as the ogre plucked Varel up from the ground, squeezing its mighty fist around the screaming seneschal, the crunching of bone clearly heard over the cacophony around him. With one last shake of its hand, Varel's screams grew silent and the ogre tossed him away as a child would an unwanted toy.

"Varel!" came an anguished scream that Loghain immediately recognized. Following through on the swing of his sword that decapitated a nearby genlock, Loghain turned to see Lhiannon sprinting over to where Varel's broken body lay. Lhiannon was covered in blood, soot, and ichor; she was bleeding from numerous cuts and her armor was coated with blood, the double griffon on the breastplate barely visible. She dropped to her knees as she arrived at Varel's side, putting her hand on Varel and chanting wildly, her eyes darting around her looking for any enemies that could be approaching.

"Commander!" Loghain shouted as a hurlock charged toward where Lhiannon knelt at Varel's side. He quickly ran toward the beast to intercept it before it could reach Lhiannon and Varel. With a great swing of his shield, Loghain hit the hurlock square in the face, the snapping of the creature's neck sounding like the crack of a whip. Lhiannon looked up at the sound of her title and saw Loghain and the other Grey Wardens with him, engaged in combat with the darkspawn around them.

"Anders, get to Varel," Loghain barked at the mage, indicating with his sword in which direction the battered seneschal lay. Anders completed his chant, sending a chain of lightning through several darkspawn before sprinting toward where Lhiannon knelt at Varel's side. Anders saw that Lhiannon was bloodied and dirty, sobbing the healing chant in an effort to keep Varel alive. The tears streaming down her face had cut channels through the blood and grime on her skin. Anders gently nudged Lhiannon out of the way and placed his hands on the seneschal. Varel was gravely wounded and it would be a miracle from the Maker if he survived.

"Lhiannon, go help Loghain and the others. I will do my best for Varel," Anders commanded, beginning to chant the words to a powerful healing spell. Lhiannon looked up to see Loghain and Alistair engaging the ogre that had so terribly injured Varel. She steeled herself, swallowing her grief and letting her rage come forward. Rising to her feet, she marched toward the ogre, beginning to chant the words to a primal spell as she brandished her sword at it. The ogre saw her coming and roared, lunging itself toward Lhiannon as she marched toward it. Alistair and Loghain shouted a warning to her, but her rage narrowed her focus to just her and the ogre. Holding her hand out, she let loose a powerful bolt of lightning that hit the ogre directly in the chest, the arcing bolts dancing over the mishmash of armor covering the beast. It roared in fury and pain, trying to brush the bolts off its body with its meaty hands. Alistair had taken advantage of the distraction, slashing at the ogre to draw its attention.

Loghain watched as Lhiannon suddenly sprinted toward the ogre, leaping into the air with Spellweaver held high over her head, the end of the sword pointed directly at the creature. She stabbed the enchanted blade into the flesh of the ogre and quickly rolled away. Loghain could hear her chanting the words to a spell again; she finished her roll and lay on her back, propped up on one elbow. With a flick of her wrist, another bolt of lightning flashed from her hand and hit Spellweaver directly on the hilt. The bolts traveled down the enchanted metal and deep into the body of the ogre, which began to thrash violently on its feet. Loghain and Alistair quickly stepped back as the ogre shuddered with the force of the lightning traveling through its body. Lhiannon roared in anger, pouring every ounce of her available mana into the creature until its skin began to writhe and boil, large blisters appearing on every bit of exposed skin. Acrid smoke began to pour out of the creature's mouth and ears before it finally pitched forward and was still.

With a quick glance at Loghain, Lhiannon rushed off to where Anders was working on Varel. Sweat poured off Anders' skin and his face looked pained as he continued chanting. As she watched, Anders' skin began to shimmer with a faint glow. Lhiannon had never seen that before and it began to alarm her. As the shimmer continued to glow and dance on Anders' skin, Varel began to slowly stir. He opened his eyes briefly, locking onto Anders and then Lhiannon. He groaned slightly before his eyes closed again. Anders' eyes began to roll in their sockets and he started to swoon over Varel; Lhiannon reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, breathing her own healing spell. As she touched Anders, a current of power flowed over her skin, leaving a slight numbing sensation behind.

"Andy, what's happening to you?" she asked, the alarm evident in the tones of her voice.

Anders paused, looking up at Lhiannon wearily. "Don't worry Lhi," he said, his voice taking on a strange timbre. "It's the Fade spirit. It's helping me heal him, but I have to use my own life force to help."

"Will Varel live?" she whispered, seeing a small amount of color returning to Varel's cheeks as Anders' own skin paled.

"I hope so," Anders whispered, his strength clearly fading. Lhiannon gently removed his hands from Varel's body to break the spell. Anders slumped over and Lhiannon barely caught him before he could land on Varel. She turned to several soldiers who stood nearby, ordering them to take Varel and Anders into the healers in the Vigil.

As scrambled to her feet and turned toward Loghain and Alistair, Captain Garavel ran up to them, blood dripping from his sword. "Commander! We've nearly pushed the darkspawn back. We need to go to the gates and force the bastards back through!"

Lhiannon nodded, picking up Spellweaver and moving off after Garavel. Loghain would have to wait until later. She heard him behind her, barking orders for the King and the other Grey Wardens to follow.

When they arrived at the gates, they saw the soldiers were having a degree of success pushing the darkspawn back. With their leadership gone, the darkspawn were falling back into disorganization. They ceased working in teams and began to fight in the manner the Grey Wardens were well familiar with. Once they arrived at the gates, they carved their way through the ranks of the darkspawn, leaving battered bodies and ichor in their wake.

Lhiannon was kicking a dead genlock off Spellweaver when Garavel was suddenly at her side, breathing heavily and covered in blood and ichor. "Commander! The darkspawn are beginning to flee!" She completed yanking Spellweaver out of the genlock, looking up and through the gates of Vigil's Keep. Her heart leapt as she saw the masses of darkspawn turning and fleeing from the Vigil, heading back into the wilderness at a run. The archers continued to fire arrows at them as they fled; Jowan and Velanna also harried them with their spells. After a few moments, the only sounds they could hear from the darkspawn were the pounding of many feet fleeing. As the moments passed, even that sound began to fade.

"Garavel," Lhiannon began, wearily sheathing Spellweaver and wiping blood and ichor from her eyes. "Send the armies after the darkspawn; have them follow the creatures just until the Vigil is out of sight, then they can double back. See that the Vigil's soldiers begin putting out the fires while the army's infantry chases the darkspawn. The archers will stay atop the walls to harass any darkspawn that attempt to return. I will have the Grey Wardens gather up the darkspawn bodies to be burned outside the walls; I don't want to expose anyone else to their plague, if they carry it. Find the Glavonak brothers and have them begin repairs on the walls and gates of the Vigil immediately."

"Understood, Commander," Garavel nodded, casting a wary glance at the Messenger, who stood nearby surveying the surroundings. "What are we to do with _that_ creature?" Lhiannon saw as the Messenger looked in her direction; she beckoned it closer.

"The darkspawn, they flee back to the Mother. The Architect, he plans to kill the Mother," the Messenger said haltingly. "This one will show you where the Mother's lair is."

"Can you point it out on a map, Messenger?" Lhiannon asked. "My people need to rest and heal before we can pursue the Mother."

The creature nodded emphatically. "Yes, this one can do that."

Garavel looked at the Messenger warily. "I am not sure what to make of this, Commander. What are your plans for the Messenger?"

Lhiannon looked at the creature; though it was clearly a darkspawn, it had the human qualities of honor and dedication. It could have easily turned on the Grey Wardens during the confusion of the battle, but had not done so. She sensed no malevolence within the creature.

"Messenger, you are free to go," Lhiannon said, nodding her head at the creature. "You have been a great help to us."

"This one, it will lead you to the Mother. Then this one will go." The Messenger turned and walked toward the city gates, settling itself down nearby to rest. Garavel returned his gaze to Lhiannon and with a salute, ran off to convey her orders.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew Lhiannon's attention from where the Messenger sat. She turned to see Loghain and Alistair approaching. Both were covered with blood and ichor; some their own, most belonging to the masses of darkspawn they had defeated. It was caked on their armor in layers, both dried and dripping wet. Loghain's eyes locked onto hers, his expression tired, but relieved. She wanted to leap into his arms right there, but he would surely have bristled at that. So for now, she settled for the slow nod he gave her.

"Commander," he spoke softly.

Lhiannon returned his nod. "Second," she greeted him. A small, weary smile crossed her face and she saw the corner of Loghain's mouth tick upward slightly in response.

"Reminds you of the good old days, traveling about Ferelden killing darkspawn, doesn't it?" Alistair asked Lhiannon, giving her a sly wink as he spoke. Lhiannon scoffed wearily, grinning at the King. "I don't know if I'd call it the good old days, Your Majesty." She turned her gaze back to Loghain. "Please have the Wardens begin gathering the darkspawn bodies and taking them outside the city walls to be burned. I'll be inside the Vigil checking on the survivors. Meet me there when you have set the Wardens on their task. I shall want a briefing on Amaranthine."

Loghain nodded. "Understood, Commander." He then briskly turned, motioning for the nearby Wardens to come close as he began issuing the orders.

Lhiannon turned toward the Vigil, wearily climbing the steps with the King right behind her. At the top, she turned and looked at the landscape around her as the King continued past, no doubt searching for Anora. The courtyard and walls were damaged, but Vigil's Keep had held. Pride filled her heart at what her Wardens and soldiers had done before her thoughts turned to Amaranthine. She was quite certain that she did not want to hear what happened there.

* * *

The Vigil's inhabitants were scattered between the dining hall and training areas of the Vigil. Their nervousness had abated with news of the darkspawn retreat and many of them were anxious to greet the Commander of the Grey. She answered many questions regarding the battle and the state of their homes within the walls of the Vigil. Lhiannon told them that there were many damaged buildings within the compound, but that she and the Grey Wardens would do everything they could to help get them back on their feet. Many residents were anxious to return to their homes to survey the damages, but Lhiannon implored them to remain within the Vigil for the time being. The Wardens were busy removing and burning the darkspawn bodies; once that task was complete, they would be allowed to return to their homes.

Lhiannon's tired feet carried her from the Vigil's inhabitants to the rooms Varel called his own. She knocked on the door before opening it, seeing a healer in his bedchamber beyond. She was wiping the blood and ichor off Varel's brow. Lhiannon approached the bed, looking down at her seneschal. He was breathing deeply and evenly as he slept. There were a number of lumps she could see in the bedcovers; he was covered in poultices. She was pleased to see some color returning to his face.

"He's resting comfortably, Warden Commander," the healer whispered, gently bringing the cloth to Varel's face and wiping more of the grime from it.

Lhiannon nodded to the healer. "Let me know when he wakes up. If you need anything for him, seek me out."

The healer nodded her understanding as she continued to minister to Varel. Lhiannon looked at her seneschal, brushing a hand across his cheek before bending down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "Wake soon, dear friend," she whispered before she turned and left his chambers.

Lhiannon made her way to the Warden barracks to check on Anders. He was laying in his bed, awake but pale and exhausted from working on Varel. Ser Pounce-A-Lot was curled up on the covers near his feet; a green eye opened to regard Lhiannon as she stood in the doorway. He yawned, displaying his boredom at the whole affair before returning his head to the bed. Anders moved to sit up as Lhiannon entered his room. "Hey, Lhi. Good to see you." He grimaced as he fought to sit up.

With a gentle push, Lhiannon guided Anders back down to the bed, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. "Easy there, Andy. You need to rest up."

"Have you checked on Varel?" Anders asked, settling back down onto the bed and pulling the covers to his chin. Lhiannon saw that he was shivering heavily. She turned to a nearby armoire, pulling another blanket from where it rested on the top and spread it over her friend.

"I did," Lhiannon nodded. "He's sleeping." She returned to the chair next to Anders' bed, pulling his hand out from under the covers and clutching it. "Thank you so very much for saving him."

Anders grinned sheepishly and Lhiannon watched as a slight flush colored his cheeks. Was he embarrassed by her thanks? He caught her gaze and they snickered together.

"Ah, Lhi. Now you're embarrassing me," he grinned.

"You used a great deal of power healing Varel," Lhiannon said, her face and voice becoming serious. "Are you going to be all right?"

Anders waived off her concern with a flick of his wrist. "Oh, yeah. I'll be fine in a few days. My mana will regenerate quickly enough, but my stamina will be slower coming." He grinned at her, a lopsided smile that Lhiannon found herself returning. "It's too bad I don't have a pretty lady to nurse me back to health or share my bed with, since I'll be here for a few days."

Laughing, Lhiannon returned the chair to the place she found it and leaned over, kissing Anders' forehead. She grinned madly as she saw his face flush a bright red. "If I find one, I'll be sure to send her your way."

"You do that!" he called out as she left.

Lhiannon walked through the Vigil to the training area, hoping that one of the smiths was on duty to look over her armor and make any necessary repairs. She was relived to see a smithy and several squires on hand, repairing several pieces of armor left by the Vigil's soldiers. When she arrived, they quickly moved to her side, helping her remove her plates and padding and quickly inspecting them for damage. The dwarven smithy said he would move her repairs to the top of his list of things to do and waved off her protests with a meaty hand. "Give us a couple of hours, Commander," he had stated, quickly placing her breastplate on the anvil before him and examining it with an experienced eye. "We'll have your armor fixed and polished for you no time." Barking orders to his squires, he immediately set to repairing her armor.

A few minutes later, she found herself outside the door to the chambers she shared with Loghain. She opened the door to her office, looking out the window and observing the first streaks of color in the sky that signaled the impending dawn. Seeing the light of dawn made her exhaustion settle even deeper within her; her eyes felt sticky and heavy and her limbs seemed to double in weight. Closing the door behind her, she crossed her office and moved toward their chambers, lighting the wall sconces and wanting nothing more than to wash the stink and grime from her skin. The tub was full of clean water and Lhiannon looked at it longingly. She decided in that moment that she would leave the water for Loghain's use when he returned. She transferred some of the water from the tub into the nearby basin and heated it, sighing as she brought handfuls of warm water up to her face and watching the water begin to turn a dark color. After a few moments spent cleaning herself, she changed into a fresh tunic and trousers, feeling somewhat human again.

The opening of the door in her office drew her attention. Pulling a hair tie from her vanity, she moved toward the door separating her office from the living quarters, pulling it open and nearly running into Loghain's chest as he was passing through. He too had visited the training area and deposited his armor and padding there; he stood before her in his dirty and stained longshirt and trousers. Dried blood and dirt matted his hair and streaked his face.

They regarded each other for a moment, seemingly stunned at seeing the other standing there before them. Loghain then rushed forward, pulling Lhiannon tightly to him as he crushed her lips with his. She wrapped her arms around him, clutching him desperately and feeling the tears of relief welling in her eyes as she kissed him. Loghain pulled away when he felt her hitching breath and saw the tears shining on her cheeks in the firelight. He reached up and brushed them away with his thumbs, feeling his own eyes threatening to fill. Once he had brushed away her tears, he held her close, settling his head on the top of hers and sighing. After a moment, she pulled back, looking into his eyes before standing on her toes to kiss him again. Her lips slowly moved against his, soft and yielding. He opened his mouth to hers, languorously kissing her, savoring every brush of her tongue and every move of her lips. The kiss broke when they needed to breathe, each looking into the eyes of the other for several moments.

"What took you so long? Were you looking for an engraved invitation?" Lhiannon grinned through her tears, running her fingers along Loghain's hairline, tucking his wayward braid behind his ear. He scoffed at her, slowly shaking his head.

"Just like Maric; making jokes at inopportune moments," he said, moving his hands up and down her back before bringing one to her face and brushing her cheek lovingly.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, running her eyes over him to look for obvious injuries. He had a number of cuts and bruises, but none appeared to be too serious. Anders had obviously taken good care of them.

Loghain shook his head slightly. "Nothing terribly serious." She saw his eyes moving over her as well, examining the various cuts and bruises dotting her exposed skin. He gently took her chin in his hand, slowly turning her head from side to side to make sure she was uninjured. After a moment's examination, he pulled her close once again. He was dirty and his clothing soaked with his sweat, but she did not care. He was here and alive, something she had feared would not come to pass as she galloped away from him in Amaranthine.

Amaranthine.

She stepped back, taking both of Loghain's hands in her own and bringing her eyes back up to his. Loghain saw the steely resolve settle into her features. "How fares Amaranthine?" she asked.

Loghain sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Perhaps we should gather Garavel, Varel, and the King before we discuss it."

He watched as her features darkened before a grimace crossed her face. She grinned at him sadly. "That bad, then?"

Loghain brought his hands up to her face, looking intently into her eyes before his own gaze softened. He sighed, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. "It's not good."

* * *

Six of them met not long after in Varel's quarters, the seneschal having awakened just moments before. He was propped up on a number of pillows and looked bone weary, but far better than he had several hours ago. Lhiannon made a mental note to commend Anders publicly for his actions; he had risked his own life to save the seneschal's without a second thought.

Several chairs were brought into Varel's bedchamber, causing the room to become quickly cramped. The King and Queen sat on one side of Varel's bed while Loghain and Garavel sat on the other side. A chair was empty, as Lhiannon nervously paced a small area of the floor at the foot of Varel's bed. Her anxiousness permeated the room and the taint between the Grey Wardens present.

"Now that we are all here," Lhiannon began, stopping her pacing to stand at the foot of Varel's bed, her arms wrapped around her, "we can discuss Amaranthine."

"Before we begin, Commander, there is a recent development you must be made aware of," Garavel began, his face grim. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together in front of them.

Lhiannon's brow furrowed, her mind nearly numb with her exhaustion. "What is that, Captain?"

"In our examination of the damages outside, we found that the prison was damaged in the darkspawn attack," Garavel stated.

There was a pause in the room where no one spoke, the silence growing thicker with every passing second. "Isolde?" Lhiannon finally asked, her stomach suddenly twisting into knots as she looked at the Captain's grim face.

"Gone."

Loghain leaned forward in his chair, glaring at Garavel with steel in his eyes and venom in his voice, each word spoken slowly and with deadly intent. "_She's what_?"

Lhiannon's brow furrowed. "'Gone' as in dead? Or 'gone' as in not here?"

"Not here," Garavel replied, his voice weary with exhaustion.

"Maker's breath," Lhiannon sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes. _How much worse can this get?_

A dark scowl crossed Loghain's face. "Escaped?" he growled, gritting his teeth together as he felt his anger very nearly spill over. It took all his willpower to not grab Garavel by the front of his shirt and slam him into the wall behind them. It would have served no purpose, however; Garavel was not to blame for the damage to the prison and for Loghain to take out his anger on the Captain would do the man a grave disservice.

Garavel nodded. Lhiannon felt as though the world was spinning beneath her feet. She reached forward, placing her hands on the foot board of Varel's bed to steady herself as her head dropped down, the realization of what Garavel said slowly sinking in.

"Send soldiers out to search for her immediately," Loghain demanded, his words clipped and icy. "Put scouts on the road to Redcliffe; she will likely try to head there. Send others to our friends in the Bannorn and to Denerim. They are not to stop searching until they have found that treacherous bitch."

"I have already sent soldiers out, Warden. They were on the roads as soon as we discovered her missing," Garavel said, turning his gaze toward Lhiannon. "We _will_ find her, Commander."

"Perhaps we can hope that the darkspawn got to her," Loghain growled, his voice acidic. "That would save us the necessity of executing her."

Alistair grimaced. "Unless she's turned into a broodmother."

"I wouldn't be sorry to see it," Loghain scoffed.

Lhiannon nodded, stunned and concerned at the revelation. "See to it that all efforts are made to find her and bring her back to Vigil's Keep, Captain." She sighed, resigned, and turned to Loghain. She could see the concern in his eyes, as well as the firm resolve to do anything to protect her. "We were speaking of Amaranthine," she prompted, the weariness evident in her voice.

Loghain sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and trading glances with Garavel and Alistair. "Much of the city has been devastated. The population has been decimated by the darkspawn plague."

Lhiannon felt her heart sinking and she reached for the back of her chair to steady herself. Loghain looked at her with concern, but she shook her head and sighed. "Go on," she said, her voice seemingly devoid of emotion.

"We had to burn a great deal of the city," Alistair explained, his head hanging low. Anora reached over and put a comforting hand on his leg, which he covered with his. "We burned the buildings standing above the smuggler tunnels; that was where the darkspawn breached the city and where the worst of the corruption and plague were."

"There are some parts of the city that are not as heavily damaged," Garavel added, ticking off the areas on his fingers. "The walls still stand. The Chantry and harbor are intact. A number of buildings scattered within the walls and just outside have only minor damage."

"Nevertheless," Loghain continued, his voice cautious, "Amaranthine has been severely damaged. Even with our best efforts, it will take years for the city to completely recover."

Anora looked toward her father first, then to Lhiannon. "You will receive assistance from the Crown. We will help gather the necessary supplies to rebuild Amaranthine." Alistair quickly added his agreement, promising to send aid from Denerim's own stores as soon as they returned to the capital.

Stunned, Lhiannon simply stared ahead, a dumbfounded look on her face. They all watched her for several moments until Varel finally spoke. "Commander…" he questioned, his deep voice strained from his ordeal.

Lhiannon came back to herself with a blink of her eyes, looking at the King and Queen first. "The Crown's help would be most appreciated," she said quietly. She looked down at her hands, her face blanching and voice quivering as she spoke. "I know you followed my orders to burn the city if need be. I just…can't believe it came to that…that the Mother and her darkspawn forced us to do it…ah _fuck…_"

"Commander, we all supported your decision," Alistair said vehemently. "The _Crown_ supported your decision. There was little that could be done by the time we got there; you know this. Even if you didn't order it, I would have had to; I couldn't have the darkspawn or their plague threaten Denerim again."

"But we were able to _save_ both Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep…" Garavel began before Lhiannon whipped her head around, glaring at him in disbelief.

"_Saved_ _Amaranthine_?" she spat, feeling the heat building in her face and the tears beginning to burn in her eyes once again. "Saved Amaranthine? It sounds like there's almost nothing left of the city! Maker's breath, what have I done?"

Varel cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Commander, yes, Amaranthine is devastated, but she will rise again. I know the people of this arling; they will not let the darkspawn defeat them."

"You did your duty as Arlessa," Loghain added, his eyes catching hers and holding them captive while he spoke. "Had you not ordered us to stay and try to save the city, it surely would have fallen and there would have been nothing left. We were able to split the Mother's army in two; had we burned Amaranthine and doubled back right away, _all of them_ would have descended on Vigil's Keep. We would not have won that battle, Commander, and then both would have been lost."

Lhiannon sighed, not wanting to argue further with those gathered in the room. She felt like a failure; this was her Arling and she was sworn to protect it and its people. They had lost a number of small settlements to the darkspawn in the countryside and now they had all but lost Amaranthine. If she were the King, she would have her head on a pike outside the palace in Denerim.

With a heavy sigh, she looked to each of the others in turn. "We need to make plans to go after the Architect and the Mother. We have to go after them as soon as possible." She looked outside, seeing the sun coming over the horizon. She made a quick calculation in her head, turning to Garavel. "Captain, while Varel recovers, you will be acting seneschal. Confer with Varel on matters if he is feeling up to it. Get your men ready to march at first light tomorrow; they are to follow us along the path the darkspawn fled upon, dispatching any stragglers they may find."

Garavel nodded his agreement. "It will be done, Commander."

She next turned her gaze onto Loghain. "Gather the Wardens in my office as soon as we are finished here. See that Anders gets whatever help he needs to get to my office. We will discuss Warden matters when all are assembled."

Loghain nodded as well. "Yes, Commander."

Turning toward the King and Queen, Lhiannon spoke to them. "I think it best if Your Majesties gathered your men and returned to Denerim. The darkspawn have fled away from the road leading to the capital. You should make haste to Denerim while you can."

Alistair turned to look at Anora, who gave him a slight nod. "A wise precaution, Commander. I shall gather my men and take my leave by midday. I know I would feel better with the Queen behind the walls of the Palace District."

"I agree," Anora said wearily, turning her gaze to Lhiannon. "You have been a most gracious hostess, Commander, but you are correct; our place is in Denerim. We shall send you support as soon as we return."

Lastly, Lhiannon turned her gaze to Varel and gave him a weary smile. "Varel, your job is to get well."

"As quickly as I can, Commander," Varel agreed.

"All right then, you all have your orders," Lhiannon said, standing tall and trying to impart confidence in her voice. "Let's see them done. I will be in my office with the Wardens."

"Lhiannon, wait."

Lhiannon wearily turned to regard Alistair, who was still seated, clutching Anora's hand in his tightly. The others in the room paused, settling back in their seats as the King spoke.

"There is one other thing that happened in Amaranthine that I believe could be of concern," he began, looking at Loghain as he spoke. Loghain nodded, turning toward Lhiannon. "You had best sit down," he said quietly, taking her hand and guiding her to the empty chair at the end of Varel's bed.

Immediately, Lhiannon felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand as she felt Alistair's trepidation through the taint. Loghain was still holding her hand, trying to reassure her with his gentle touch. "What happened?" she asked warily, running her free hand through her hair.

Alistair traded glances with Loghain before speaking. "There was a lull in the battle with the darkspawn in Amaranthine. The four of us—myself, Loghain, Nathaniel, and Anders—stopped to rest and resupply in the Chantry of Our Lady Redeemer." Alistair paused for a moment, his gaze flicking back between Loghain and Lhiannon.

Lhiannon furrowed her brows in confusion. "And?" she prompted.

Alistair sighed heavily, squeezing Anora's hand again. "The Revered Mother came up to me as we rested. She said that I should pray to the Maker for forgiveness…" he paused again, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He looked at Loghain; Lhiannon saw a strange look on the King's face, almost as if he were pleading for Loghain to finish the thought.

"The Revered Mother said that this recent incursion of the darkspawn was a 'trial'. A trial forced upon us by the Maker for some of the recent actions the Crown has taken," Loghain said, his voice low and even, but betraying the anger that lay just below the surface.

Lhiannon looked at Loghain for a moment before returning her gaze to Alistair. She saw that Alistair's face had blanched. "I think she means _you_, Lhiannon."

Lhiannon looked between the two men, confused at their words. Suddenly, they fell into place and she felt her own face blanch. Dread began to settle in her stomach and her eyes grew wide. "_Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," _she whispered. A chill ran down her spine, memories of a childhood spent in an insular village proselytizing that very belief came roaring to the front of her mind. Her voice trailed off and she heard Loghain scoff beside her. "I told her that her insinuations needed to be kept to herself," he said angrily. "We do not need overly paranoid Chantry types stirring up more trouble than we already have."

"I fear trouble has already been stirred up," Lhiannon whispered anxiously. "If that is truly her belief, she won't keep it to herself and chances are, others either know of her beliefs or were the ones to tell her such." A sense of foreboding settled itself at the back of Lhiannon's mind. An ominous omen, one she did not need added to her already mounting concerns. "I need to tell the Wardens."

"Tell the Wardens what?" Anora asked, her slight brows knitting in confusion. Lhiannon saw a similar look on Alistair's face; Lhiannon had not told him much about her upbringing, given his years of life as a templar in training within the Chantry. Loghain's expression was one of concern, as Lhiannon had told him some stories of her childhood already.

"About my childhood," Lhiannon whispered, her eyes looking down at the floor. "Where I grew up and what they believed." Her eyes came up to regard the King. "You had better hear it too."

* * *

The meeting with the Wardens lasted over an hour. Lhiannon was beginning to feel her exhaustion creeping into every fiber of her being. She could not remember the last time she had slept and was trying to get last minute matters tied up so she could sleep for a few hours before they had to leave for the Mother's lair.

Lhiannon had told the Wardens, as well as the King and Queen, about her childhood and the village she was raised in. They looked on her with concern, understanding at last her trepidation surrounding the templars and the Chantry. When her story was finished, they turned next to planning the expedition to deal with the Architect and the Mother. Anders was in no condition yet to go on this expedition; it was decided that Velanna would make the journey as healer. Lhiannon and Loghain were certainly going, as was Sigrun. Nathaniel was to be in charge of the Wardens while they were gone, handling any affairs that arose with Garavel and Varel, should he be feeling better.

When the last of the Wardens had left, Lhiannon wearily shut the door to her office, running the bolt as she sagged against the wood. She rested her head on the door, closing her eyes and sighing heavily. Between the battle at Vigil's Keep, the news of Amaranthine's devastation, and the ominous words of the Revered Mother, she felt her already frayed emotions and control ready to snap. She heard Loghain's approaching footsteps from behind, his hands on her shoulders a moment later. His touch broke her resolve; she began to weep bitter tears as she leaned against the door, her shoulders shaking in his hands. Loghain gently pulled her away from the door, gathering her into his arms as she wept quietly into his chest. He simply held her, holding her up with his strong arms and gently nuzzling her hair with his face, breathing in her scent.

"How could I have let the people of Amaranthine down?" Lhiannon said between sobs, her hand up to her face to catch her hitching cries. "I gave the order to _burn the city_; what sort of leader does that?"

"One who must decide the least costly course of action," Loghain said quietly. He understood how she felt and understood the doubts that screamed in her mind and soul. During the battle at West Hill, he and Rowan had left their decimated, routed army behind to find Maric and make certain he escaped. It was possible they could have helped their men to flee, but had decided that saving Maric was most important, no matter the cost. Losing Maric would have had far more devastating consequences than what they had already suffered; the very backbone of the rebellion would have been broken had Maric died. Most of their ragtag army perished at West Hill, including Rowan's father, Arl Rendorn. The cost they paid had been great, especially for Rowan. She had quite literally sacrificed her father for Maric.

Loghain also remembered his decision to turn the armies back at Ostagar; he had agonized over it for some time before deciding that it _was_ the best course of action; Cailan was a fool whose blind ambition to march into glorious battle would have doomed far more people than those that were lost that day.

Such was the price of leadership; hard decisions need to be made, for good or ill. Sometimes the lesser of two evils was the appropriate path; Lhiannon was learning that difficult lesson. All leaders had to learn it eventually.

"I would rather follow one who finds it difficult to lead, than one who finds it easy," he continued. "Sister Ailis, one of my father's closest confidants during the war with Orlais, told him that. I agree with her."

Loghain held her for several more moments while her sobs began to quiet. After they fell silent, she looked up at him, a small smile on her tear streaked, weary face. "Thank you. I appreciate your support."

"You shall always have it," he said, smoothing her mussed hair. He then turned her toward their bedchamber door, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her toward it. He maneuvered her toward the bed, gently helping her out of her tunic and trousers and into a nightshirt. He then exchanged his clothing for a pair of sleeping pants before guiding her into their bed, pulling her into his arms as he brought the covers up over them. They held each other close until moments later both were sound asleep.

* * *

_A/N: A note on the Messenger: in the epilogue of Awakening, it says that if you release the Messenger, he becomes a mysterious __hooded traveler who helps those he comes across. And if an isolated patch of the taint turns up, meh, no biggie. A couple of you had asked about it, so there it is._

_I COULDN'T DO IT. Could. Not. Do. It. I KNOW Varel dies in Awakening, but I just couldn't do it and believe me, I tried, but the muse fought me tooth and nail over it. She won. There are a few characters that the muse won't allow me to kill off. Everyone else is fair game._

_Thanks to reviewers Shakespira, Arsinoe, Dante Alighieri, Aura of Darkness Night, Gene, and icey. Your support is greatly appreciated!_

_Look for a one-shot coming in a day or two (or sooner if I can) __that tells a little more of Lhiannon's backstory; it's t____he story she told to the Wardens here. ____It's called "The Releasing." It's dark...fair warning. I____________f you could read and review it, I'd be most appreciative. :) Thanks to Gene for the idea!_


	48. The Path to the Mother

Lhiannon opened her eyes after a few hours of fitful sleep, her limbs feeling heavy and sore from the trials of the last couple of days. It was almost completely dark in their bedchamber, the sconces dark and the fire long since burned low; her senses told her that dawn was only a few hours away. With the dawn would come the march to find the Mother's lair and put an end to her plans to destroy the Grey Wardens. She sighed; there would be no more sleep for her this day and most likely little to none further until the Mother was dealt with.

"Awake are you now?" Loghain said, reaching out and pulling Lhiannon close to him. She snuggled into his chest, breathing in the scent and warmth of his skin. He entwined his legs within hers, wanting to pull her even closer.

"Yes, sleep appears to be a luxury these days," Lhiannon sighed, resting her head against Loghain's chest and listening to his beating heart. Its sound soothed her weary spirit as he ran his hand through her hair and down her back.

Loghain rolled on top of Lhiannon a moment later, settling his weight on her before he leaned down and kissed her, his tongue moving along her lips and demanding entrance. She opened her mouth to him, meeting his tongue with hers as she arched her back beneath him. They desperately held on to each other and spoke quiet words of love before Loghain's mouth wandered down her body, finding her nub and giving her the sweet release she had not realized she so desperately needed. When Loghain's length found its way inside her not long after, Lhiannon wrapped her arms and legs around him possessively and desperately. She clung to him, pulling him to her and whispering her love as he rocked himself to completion, her name and his love for her on his lips.

* * *

As the sun cleared the horizon, Lhiannon saw that they would not need the Messenger's help to find the path that led to the Mother's lair. The greenest recruit could have found the way; the landscape in the direction the darkspawn army had fled was beaten down, all the plant life crushed to the ground underfoot as the creatures fled to the northwest. A number of darkspawn corpses were scattered along the path, killed by either their injuries sustained in the battle at Vigil's Keep, or by their own brethren. The Grey Wardens and the Messenger followed the path, stopping only occasionally for a brief rest or a meal. It was slow going as they had to leave the nervous and edgy horses back at Vigil's Keep, following the trail left behind on foot.

The terrain began to become more rugged and hilly, slowing their progress as they approached the area the Messenger said would lead to the Mother's lair. They had paused for a few moments to catch their breath after climbing a particularly steep hill and Loghain took the opportunity to pull out his map of Amaranthine. He had been marking their progress on the map as they traveled along the path left by the retreating darkspawn army. As he studied the map, a frown crossed his face.

"What is it?" Lhiannon asked, coming over to sit at Loghain's side to look at the map.

He pointed to a spot with a small representation of a dragon's head. "I believe the Messenger is leading us to a place called the Dragonbone Wastes."

"Whoa, wait," Sigrun chirped up, jumping to her feet and rushing over to where Loghain sat with the map. "Dragons? We're going to a place where there are _dragons_?"

"It is just a legend," Velanna barked, nervously fingering her staff and casting her eyes about them warily. "The legends say the Dragonbone Wastes are covered with harsh winds and desolate landscapes. Dragons would go there when they sensed the end was near to die in the bitter cold. The ancient Tevinter magisters believed the tales and thought the area must contain great power if that is where the dragons went to die." She paused in her tale, bringing her eyes back to the other Grey Wardens. "The Tevinters traveled to the Dragonbone Wastes and found mounds of bones; a great many dragons had gone there to die and their bones were piled on top of each other. They named the area Drakes Fall and built a city there, seeking to harness its power."

Lhiannon turned toward Velanna and nodded. "Well, as you've said before Velanna, legends often have a basis in truth. If dragons did come here at one time, it's possible they could still come."

"Instinct?" Loghain asked, folding the map and replacing it in his pack. "Like birds fly north for the winter or pack animals that go off by themselves to die?"

"Exactly," Lhiannon nodded.

"I hope we don't run into any nasty old dragons," Sigrun groused, twirling her small axe in her hand. "Darkspawn are bad enough."

"We should prepare for the possibility of seeing one here though," Loghain said, slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Keep a wary eye to the sky as we draw closer to the Mother's lair. We do not need a dragon surprising us."

The Grey Wardens and the Messenger continued their journey along the darkspawn's trail and eventually climbed to the top of yet another rise and saw the land level out somewhat ahead of them. As they cleared the top, they saw several ancient statues lining a path before them; statues that were in the style of ancient Tevinter, weather worn to the point where the intricate details had been scoured away by the elements and time.

"I believe we are close; the taint is becoming more active," Lhiannon said, standing at the foot of one of the statues and admiring it. "The Tevinters may have dabbled in dark magics, but their artwork is fascinating."

"We are close to the Mother's lair; this one agrees," the Messenger wheezed as he came to stand next to her. "This one will remain here to guard the path."

Lhiannon nodded, turning to her companions as they too gazed at the ancient Tevinter statues. Off in the distance they could see what looked like the walls of a city and the top of a tower looming overhead. Dark rocky formations littered the landscape. Little in the way of plant life could be seen; only the dark and twisted remains of trees, blackened and long dead. As they followed the winding path toward the tower, grayish white spires began to appear before them, poking out of the ground in regular groupings.

"Hey, are these stalagmites of some type?" Sigrun asked, running her hand along one of the formations sticking out of the ground. "I saw lots of them in the Deep Roads, but none were this color or this smooth though. Or are they just weird rocks?"

Loghain looked warily at the structures, shaking his head slowly as he looked at the smooth, weathered formations. "They are not rocks, Sigrun. They're bones. Dragon rib bones. Some rather recently laid here."

"Eeww," Sigrun said, quickly pulling her hand away from the bone she was running her hand over and wiping it on her legs. A look of revulsion crossed her face; Lhiannon chuckled lightly at the sight.

"Here is a skull," Velanna said from around a corner in the path ahead of them. "It still looks rather white. More recently laid here."

"Then we must be cautious," Loghain growled, pulling his sword and shield to the ready. Lhiannon and Sigrun pulled their weapons while the tip of Velanna's staff began to glow as she prepared a spell. They continued along the path slowly and cautiously, peering out of the corner of their eyes for any dragons or dragonkind that may be in the area. The taint roiled within them, pulling on their blood as they continued forward.

Movement from their left suddenly caught their attention as a number of childer grubs suddenly appeared from clefts in the rocks and began to scurry toward them. Their squeals filled the air as they attacked, teeth and claws trying to rip into the flesh of the Grey Wardens. Lhiannon cast ice and rock spells to freeze and shatter the creatures while Velanna called upon the roots of the earth, enveloping the creatures so Loghain and Sigrun could slash them to pieces as they were held trapped in the spell. The grubs' dying screams drew an armored ogre from the nearby rubble, its footsteps rumbling and the ground shaking as it ran toward the Grey Wardens. Velanna called forth her roots, trying to stop the ogre's progress, but they only served to slow the creature momentarily and further anger it. Loghain, Lhiannon, and Sigrun all slashed at the creature, trying to flank the beast and drive their blades into the gaps of the ogre's armor.

"Get back!" Velanna screamed, raising her staff high overhead as she called upon Nature's Vengeance, the spell's massive roots erupting from the ground to surround the armored ogre. Several of the roots penetrated the parts of the ogre's hide left exposed between the crude plates of armor, holding it in place as the remaining Grey Wardens rushed forward, plunging the steel of their blades into the ogre's hide. Lhiannon buried Spellweaver into the ogre, once again casting a lightning spell at her sword, the energies traveling along the enchanted metal and deep into the ogre. With one last flash of lightning, the ogre emitted a dying roar before it crumpled against the roots holding it in place, its ichor seeping into the ground beneath it. Velanna broke her spell and the roots retreated into the ground once more, allowing the ogre to fall to the ground and become still.

Loghain and Sigrun breathed heavily with their exertions as Lhiannon yanked Spellweaver from the ogre's hide. A subtle blue glow settled over them as Velanna cast a spell to heal the Wardens, the tickle of the magic dancing across their skin and healing their injuries in seconds. After a few moments centering themselves, they settled into a loose formation again, continuing along the path toward the tower that lay ahead. More children and ogres came from within the bones of the long dead dragons and were eventually joined by darkspawn from the Mothers' army. Blades flashed and magical energies flared as the Grey Wardens battled through wave after seemingly endless wave of the Mother's army, Velanna's healing magic leaving a constant tickle on everyone's skin.

As they drew near the tower and to the door they could see that led inside, the Grey Wardens happened upon a large clearing. The area was devoid of dragon bones or the dead, twisted trees that lined the paths winding through the Dragonbone Wastes. As they moved along the perimeter of the clearing, Loghain began to feel extremely uneasy. The hairs at the back of his neck began to stand and he stopped in his tracks, Lhiannon nearly running into him from behind. He held his sword hand up, motioning for the others to stop.

"What is it?" Lhiannon whispered from behind, feeling her own apprehension growing in the silence that blanketed them. Loghain stood completely still in front of her and she could almost taste the apprehension and wariness that rolled off his body in palpable waves.

Loghain cast his eyes about, searching for the unseen predator that he knew lurked nearby; he could feel it watching them just as he could feel Lhiannon standing right behind him. He could feel her apprehension growing as he stood perfectly still, listening. "Something is watching us," he growled quietly, his eyes still casting about, searching along the ground for any movement. He slowly turned his head toward the sky and Lhiannon watched as his eyes went wide with horror. A shadow fell upon them, quickly growing in size. "High dragon!" he roared. Lhiannon turned her head to the sky and saw the outstretched wings and long neck of the dragon, a dark silhouette against the sky. It roared and took a deep breath as is quickly dived, preparing to breathe fire upon them.

"Velanna! Ice! Now!" Lhiannon barked, raising Spellweaver and chanting a blizzard spell. There was no time for them to seek shelter among the rocks; the dragon would be on top of them in seconds. Loghain quickly moved between Lhiannon and the dragon, sheltering her body with his larger frame and holding his shield in front of them. She created a vortex around the Grey Wardens, hoping the wall of ice and snow would protect them from the dragon's onslaught; it had worked against Flemeth and she hoped it would be successful now. It would be a quick battle indeed if the barrier did not hold.

Velanna launched icy missiles at the dragon as fire erupted from its mouth, hitting Lhiannon's icy barrier. The barrier shimmered but held. Lhiannon poured more mana into the spell, sweat beginning to trickle down her brow and neck. Velanna continued pelting the dragon with ice and snow, the beast roaring in pain as the ice bit into its skin. Lhiannon's spell finally began to fade as her mana depleted. Loghain and Sigrun rushed forward, preparing to flank the beast while Velanna kept pelting it with spells.

"Watch for the tail sweep," Loghain shouted at Sigrun as he slashed at one of the dragon's back legs, hoping to cripple the beast to keep it from moving too quickly along the ground. He had been anticipating a kick from the dragon and moved as the dragon's leg suddenly thrust out and tried to knock Loghain off his feet. He quickly rushed forward again, slashing at the dragon's flesh with his sword.

Sigrun sheathed her axe in favor of two vicious long daggers, burying them into the dragon's flesh and using them as handholds to pull herself up onto the dragon's back toward the base of its neck. It snapped at her, trying to grab the dwarf in its mouth and fling her off its back. Sigrun used her knives for leverage, holding on for dear life as she slashed at the base of the dragon's neck. _Ancestors' tits, its teeth are as long as I am tall!_

Velanna had drained a lyrium potion and continued pelting the dragon's face with ice and snow, blinding the creature and frustrating its attacks. The dragon moved to draw a deep breath and spew fire again. As it opened its maw to inhale, Lhiannon chanted the words to another ice spell, hurling ice boulders at it and successfully lodging them into the creature's gullet. The creature's body trembled as it fought for breath, making strange huffing noises in its struggle. It thrashed its head about, trying to shake the ice boulders loose. Its wings flapped wildly, stirring up clouds of blinding dust that blanketed the Wardens. Loghain used the icy distraction to move up to the dragon's chest, using both hands to plunge his blade into the creature's chest near its heart. The dragon's movements began to weaken as it struggled to breathe, the blood pouring out of the wound in its chest in torrents and its eyes wide in shock and pain. Velanna followed Lhiannon's lead, forcing ice and snow into the dragon's face as Sigrun slashed at the neck and Lhiannon came forward to strike the dragon's chest on the opposite side of Loghain.

With one last effort, the dragon swept its tail around itself, knocking Lhiannon and Loghain off their feet, sending them tumbling away in a clatter of armor against rock. As they fell, they saw the dragon collapse onto its stomach, its struggles weakening rapidly as it was unable to draw breath. Its neck began to settle toward the ground; Loghain was quickly on his feet, grabbing his sword with both hands. He sprinted toward the creature, roaring a great battle cry that echoed off the rocks and walls surrounding the clearing. Lhiannon raised her head to see Loghain swing his sword at the dragon's neck near the base of its skull, the weapon slicing cleanly through the bone and muscle before stopping halfway through the dragon's body as the head settled on the ground. With a great roar, Loghain pushed down on his sword, sending it the rest of the way through the dragon's neck before pulling it out and standing tall. His tall frame shook with the exertion, his chest heaving in and out as he took great gasps of breath. The dragon's body quivered for a moment before falling still, great torrents of blood rushing out of the wound to spread on the ground below.

The Grey Wardens stood next to the dragon's corpse, breathing heavily in their exertion. Sigrun pulled her daggers from the dragon's flesh, sliding down the body to land on the ground next to it. Healing spells were cast again as the Wardens took several minutes to center themselves. Lhiannon came to Loghain's side, placing her hand on his cheek and breathing a healing spell. She watched as his cuts and scrapes began to heal, leaving nothing but unmarred skin behind. He nodded gratefully to her, turning to face her before taking her other hand in his and squeezing it tenderly. He turned his head toward the building before them, looking at the door leading inside. "That is our next destination, yes?"

"Yes," Lhiannon agreed, nodding as she spoke. "I can feel the taint writhing as we draw closer to the building."

"As do I," he agreed, releasing her hand and picking up his discarded shield. He turned to Sigrun and Velanna. "You feel the taint growing stronger too, yes?" Both Wardens nodded, their expressions wary as their eyes cast toward the ancient building.

"Come then," Lhiannon said, turning toward the building ahead of them. "Let us see what awaits inside." As the Grey Wardens approached the door, Sigrun looked back at the dead dragon, snorting as her eyes ran across the beast. "If the only dragons that come here are the ones that mostly dead, I'd hate to see one that was mostly alive. That dragon had some spunk."

* * *

The Grey Wardens cautiously entered the tower, Loghain taking the point with his shield held before him. He moved slowly, his eyes flicking from side to side, watching for movement ahead of them. Lhiannon and Velanna followed close behind while Sigrun took the rear, watching for anything to try and flank them from behind. The tower was dark, save for the occasional wall sconce burning with a weak orange flame. Loose stones littered the floor and dust had accumulated, stirred up by the passage of their feet. Lhiannon had to fight to keep from sneezing.

The taint roiled in their blood, the incessant pull on both their minds and blood nearly maddening. Masses of darkspawn were in the vicinity, either on other levels of the tower or laying in wait for the Grey Wardens to approach. Lhiannon felt a sense of _wrongness_ here that tickled at her mind and pulled on the taint in her blood. She moved toward Loghain, murmuring softly to him as they maneuvered their way through the tower.

"Do you feel that? The strangeness in the taint? I think the Architect is near," she growled, gritting her teeth. She hoped that he _was_ here; she wanted answers from him as to what he had done to her and the others. What had he done with their blood? Deep inside, in her darkest heart, she also wanted vengeance for what he took from her, using her nearly impossible odds of conceiving a child to try and woo her to his side. _Like bloody hell I would willingly help that monster,_ she thought.

Loghain looked at Lhiannon out of the corner of his eye and he nodded slightly to her. He saw the firm set of her jaw and could feel her rage at the Architect in their shared taint. "I believe you are right," he growled. "The creature needs to die for what it has done and what it wanted to do."

"I agree," Lhiannon snarled. "I suppose I will have to fight you for who gets to drive their sword through the Architect's chest."

Loghain scoffed as he continued to move cautiously through the tower, his eyes never leaving the path ahead of them. "No question. It will be _my_ sword buried in his chest."

"Not if I get to him first," Lhiannon grinned.

A movement from their side caused both Loghain and Lhiannon's heads to whip to their left at the same time. Loghain held out his sword arm, stopping Velanna and Sigrun behind him as he turned to face whatever moved in the shadows, his shield and sword both held at the ready. They all paused, warily watching the shadows as a figure began to take shape. It moved into the dim light; as it did so, Lhiannon heard the sharp intake of breath from Velanna behind her.

"Seranni!" she gasped, quickly stepping forward to meet her sister as she emerged from the shadows.

Seranni stopped, looking toward the Grey Wardens and nodding slowly before turning her gaze back to Velanna. "Sister. I'm glad to see that you are well." Seranni's voice had taken on a raspy quality that Lhiannon did not remember hearing before.

"Oh, thank Mythal you're still alive, Seranni!" Velanna exclaimed, great relief in her voice. Velanna held up her staff, the end glowing brightly and chasing the shadows into the distance. Lhiannon heard Velanna's startled gasp when the light fell fully on Seranni, who flinched from the sudden increase of light and brought her hand up to shield her eyes. The elf was more corrupted than before, her skin pale and covered with dark blotches of corruption. Seranni's eyes held a milky quality, as of the color had faded away like an object left in the sun for too long. Seranni moved more slowly, a shuffling gate that Lhiannon recognized as being more darkspawn like than elf like. And then the smell…

"Seranni, what has the Architect done to you?" Velanna whispered in horror. She brought her hand up to her face and grimaced at the sight and smell of her sister. "Why are you still with him? Look at what he has done to you!"

Seranni held up a hand, pleading with Velanna for calm. "No, Sister. The Architect has treated me with kindness and tenderness; he has been good to me." Seranni paused, looking over the other Grey Wardens, her gaze landing on Lhiannon and holding her attention captive. "The Architect has told me his plan. The darkspawn are just like us."

"The darkspawn are _not_ like us," Velanna pleaded. "They are soulless monsters!"

"No, Sister," Seranni said, shaking her head slowly as if Velanna were an unruly child. "They _are _just like us. The Dalish."

Lhiannon watched as a dark shadow crossed over Velanna's face. Her brows furrowed in what looked like confusion. "What do you mean, Seranni?" she whispered.

Seranni stepped closer to Velanna, holding her hands out as if pleading with her. "The Architect has freed the darkspawn from their compulsion. They merely seek a place in this world, just like the Dalish are seeking their place." Seranni stepped closer, almost close enough to reach out and touch Velanna now. "Everything the Architect has done has been to help his people. You can respect that, can't you? You've fought for our people, Velanna. You wanted vengeance on those who burned us out of our homes. I thought you were being unreasonable, but now I see you were trying to _help_ our clan and the Dalish. Just like the Architect helps the darkspawn."

Lhiannon could see that Seranni's words were like a siren song to Velanna, wooing her over to the Architect's side by comparing the trials of the Dalish to what the Architect was trying to do with the darkspawn. Lhiannon scoffed loudly, drawing the attention of both elves to her. "Seranni, the darkspawn are monsters; corrupted and soulless creatures bent on destruction. I think I have a great deal of experience with them to know."

Seranni shook her head at Lhiannon, her milky eyes narrowing. "No! That is no longer true. The darkspawn are not monsters."

A look of confusion settled on Velanna's face; she looked torn between what she knew of the darkspawn from experience and what Seranni was telling her. Both depictions could not be true, could they? They _were_ soulless monsters; how could they be any different?

"Seranni," Velanna began, her voice pleading. "The darkspawn killed our friends and our people! They killed so many others as well, humans and dwarves! They destroyed our clan and laid waste to the humans' lands. They've all but destroyed the dwarven cities. Don't you _remember_ that?"

Seranni turned and paced away a few steps, seemingly deep and thought and regretting what had become of both her and Velanna. "I know they killed thousands upon thousands of us; humans, dwarves, and elves. Those that have not been freed do not know any better." She turned toward Velanna again, reaching out and taking Velanna's hands in her own and pleading with her. Velanna looked at Seranni's corrupted hands, unable to hold back a grimace at the feel of Seranni's unnerving skin and how the nails on her fingers were growing longer and darker, looking more like talons. Not unlike the Architect's hands. Velanna shivered.

"The darkspawn are like young children, Sister," Seranni began, gently shaking Velanna's hands as she pleaded with her. "They come into this world with no knowledge of how to act or behave. No understanding of right and wrong; good and fair. They need to be guided and taught as children would be."

"Beasts," Loghain snarled, drawing a cold glare from Seranni. "The darkspawn are little more than mindless beasts."

"Unfortunately, you are right," Seranni said, turning her gaze from Loghain back to Velanna. "They have a bestial nature but I have seen the darkspawn overcome it. They _can_ overcome it; they just need to be shown how. I can help them do that. I _am_ helping them to do that."

Lhiannon stepped forward, Spellweaver at her side but pointed toward the floor. It was all she could do to not swing the blade at Seranni and sever her corrupted head from her shoulders. She could see Seranni's words pulling Velanna into a new direction; Velanna looked _sympathetic_ toward the words Seranni spoke. Lhiannon turned to look at Velanna, her face hard with her fury. "Velanna, can't you see? Seranni is more _darkspawn_ than elf now. The Architect has his claws embedded so deeply into her that she can see nothing other than his work. Seranni gave up fighting for her freedom, and her free will, long ago. She is little more than his puppet now." Turning toward Seranni, Lhiannon gave her a withering glare and brought Spellweaver up into a threatening position. "I can't _believe_ I wanted to help you. You are nearly as twisted as the Architect himself. What have you done to further his insidious plans? To further his maniacal experiments?" Lhiannon heard Velanna's sharp intake of breath from nearby. Loghain quickly stepped to Lhiannon's side, giving the prickly elf a withering stare.

Seranni paid no heed to the venom in Lhiannon's words; in fact, she looked mildly amused at the outburst. "It doesn't matter anymore, Commander." Seranni turned back and moved toward the shadows, stopping briefly to look over her shoulder directly at Lhiannon. Her look made Lhiannon's blood turn to ice in her veins.

"The architect is waiting for _you_, Commander. When you come to him, and you will, he will explain everything. You will see things they way I have seen them. You will see things _his_ way and you _will_ help."

Velanna reached out with a hand and made move to follow Seranni. Sigrun quickly moved forward, placing herself in front of the elf and holding her in place with her stout frame. "Velanna, stay here! Don't follow her!" Sigrun pleaded.

"Seranni, no! Come back!' Velanna pleaded desperately, watching Seranni's retreating figure disappear into the shadows once more. She lowered her head in resignation for a moment before snarling and pushing Sigrun away from her. "Get away from me," Velanna snarled.

"You will remember your place, Velanna," Lhiannon growled, her piercing gaze causing the elf to take a half step back. Velanna quickly regained her composure and met Lhiannon's piercing gaze with one of her own.

Loghain turned back into the direction they were headed, pulling his shield back to the ready. "Come, we have wasted enough time on this. We move on."

* * *

They came to a set of stairs winding down into the depths of the tower. The stairs disappeared into the dark gloom of the tower, few sconces lit on the stairs to illuminate them. The feeling of darkspawn grew heavier; they were much closer now, and in great numbers. The Grey Wardens began to slowly descend the stairs. They had only traveled for a few moments when the hissing of darkspawn and screeching of childers reached their ears. The creatures rushed up the stairs at the Grey Wardens, brandishing their crude weapons. Luckily, the Grey Wardens had the higher ground, giving them an advantage when fighting the creatures up close. Loghain had kicked numerous creatures off balance with his armored boots, sending them crashing down into their brethren below, the wet snapping of bones clearly heard as the creatures fell. Lhiannon used both steel and magic to fend off the creatures, sending bright fireballs raining down on the creatures, who turned and fled in a screaming, burning mass until they simply fell over dead.

The Grey Wardens pushed forward down into the depths, dispatching the seething masses of darkspawn that threatened to either push them back up the stairs or drag them forward into their midst to be ripped to shreds among the teeming, hissing masses. Slowly, they made their way to the bottom, a vast number of darkspawn corpses piled up on the bottom of the stairs; they had to climb over a number of stinking, smoking bodies to reach the plateau at the foot of the stairway. When they all reached the bottom, they investigated the small plateau and found a causeway leading off toward another tower. The sense of darkspawn was just as thick here as it was at the top of the stairs.

Velanna took a few moments to heal everyone in the party, cuts and slashes closing and aches fading as they watched the subtle blue glow of healing race across their skin. Lhiannon took a small rag from inside her armor and wiped dark ichor off her face, turning and handing the cloth to the other Grey Wardens in turn. After several moments of respite, Loghain took the point once again and began to lead them slowly across the causeway, battling masses of darkspawn as they moved forward. They slowly made their way across the causeway, blood and ichor mixing on their blades and coating their armor with its foulness. Once again, the mages healed the others as they reached the end of the causeway and stood before yet another tower.

Loghain reached for the handle to open the door, pushing it open slowly and entering with his shield at the ready, watching for any attack to come as they entered. The feeling of _wrongness_ was thicker here then ever. He looked over his shoulder toward Lhiannon; he saw a look of utter revulsion on her face, her nose slightly wrinkled as she passed through the doorway. He watched her eyes tick upward and widen, gasping at what she saw. Loghain turned his eyes upward, following Lhiannon's frightful stare to a ledge above.

He found himself looking into the terrifyingly intelligent eyes of the Architect.

* * *

_I would be lying if I said I wasn't feeling increasingly melancholy with every chapter posted now. I think by the time I post the last one, I'll be crying like a baby. I've already shed a few tears...the last line of this story has been written for a couple of weeks now and I cried when I wrote it. I'm such a girl. ;)_

_Special thanks to my reviewers for their kind words and encouragement: Enaid Aderyn, Forestnymphe, Shakespira, Gene, Arsinoe, TG2000, and icey. Thank you all so much. _

_Thanks to all of you who have also read and reviewed "The Releasing."  
_

_And as always, thanks to those who continue to follow Lhiannon's story. I very much appreciate it and I hope to see you all for the sequel.  
_


	49. Revelations

"Ah, so it is that we meet again, Commander," the Architect said, his voice smooth yet terrifying all at once. Utha stood next to the Architect, glaring down at the Grey Wardens with what looked like utter contempt. She quickly drew her weapon, making ready to attack but stopped only when the taloned hand of the Architect slowly and calmly lowered itself in front of the dwarf.

"Peace, Utha," the Architect purred, turning his head slightly to regard his ally. "There is no need for violence." Lhiannon watched as the dwarf stood down slightly, lowering the weapon from where she brandished it in front of her to simply holding it at her side. The glare Utha gave them, however, did not soften at all; she was clearly spoiling for a fight. The Architect brought his hands up as he began to weave a spell, a sickly green glow that formed on his hands and enveloped his body. Lhiannon and the others watched in horrified fascination as the Architect slowly rose above the platform and out, lowering itself to the ground before the Grey Wardens.

"I owe you an apology, Commander," the Architect said as he drifted lazily through the air toward the ground. "When last we met, I intended to explain myself." With barely a sound, the Architect landed on the ground, dissipating the magic with a wave of his hand as he looked at Lhiannon. "Fate, however unfortunately, has intervened."

Lhiannon felt the rage building inside her, a dark thing that she could barely contain. "_You experimented on me,_" she growled menacingly. "You restrained me. You took my blood." Her voice became even lower, her words ground out between her clenched teeth. Loghain watched her with concern; she looked almost feral, something he had never seen from her before. Not even at the Landsmeet when she held a dagger to his throat had she looked so wild and untamed.

She took a menacing step toward the Architect, sword raised at the ready. "You took part of _my womb, _violating me in the worst, most personal and invasive way. And for what? To further your monstrous experiments in your so-called quest to free your brethren."

The Architect slowly shook his head, as if pitying Lhiannon for some sort of confusion she saw in his true purpose. "Commander, I only restrained you to prevent the misunderstanding that occurred with the others of your order."

Loghain scoffed angrily, his sword shaking visibly in his hand. "'_Misunderstanding_'? You have attacked the Grey Wardens seeking to further your cause; that is hardly a misunderstanding."

Holding up a withered, taloned hand, the Architect slowly shook his head at Loghain. "No. I sent the Withered to ask for the Grey Wardens' help. He should have anticipated that you might view his approach as an attack; I assure you, it was not meant as such." The Architect's face grimaced slightly, as if he were trying to approximate the human expression of pity or sorrow. "I apologize, Commander. I am rarely able to judge how your kind will react in such situations. What happened was most unfortunate."

"_Unfortunate?_" Lhiannon sneered, a look of disgust and hatred crossing her features. "You took those men and bled them dry! And you have the impudence to call that _unfortunate_?"

The Architect shook his head slowly once again. "The Grey Wardens that were brought to me were already dead. I took their blood just as I took that of you and your companions because I had little choice. Events have, unfortunately, not proceeded as I had planned." It raised a hand to the Grey Wardens, as if imploring them. "Please, Commander. I ask that you hear me out. If after we have spoken, you wish to slay me, you are welcome to try."

Lhiannon glared at the creature for a moment, assessing the creature as it stood before her, seemingly patient and unconcerned. "Speak quickly then," she growled. Loghain took a step forward, bringing himself beside Lhiannon as she continued staring at the Architect in nearly blind fury. His own fury echoed her own.

The Architect nodded, folding its taloned hands together in front of him as if preparing to talk to an old friend. "My kind has been driven to seek out the Old Gods since time immemorial. We seek to touch perfection. That is the nature of my kind. When we find one, our taint corrupts it and a Blight begins. My kind then attack the surface lands; in response, your people fight back until we are defeated and driven back below ground. This is the endless cycle of my kind. To break it, my brethren must be freed from their compulsion; for that, I need the blood of Grey Wardens."

Silence fell in the chamber as the Grey Wardens contemplated what the Architect said. Loghain had heard this story before, from the time when Maric returned from the Deep Roads after that foolish expedition to find the Orlesian Grey Warden Bregan. The Architect had somehow convinced some of the Grey Wardens from that expedition to join its cause; one of those Wardens stood on the ledge above, glaring down at them with thinly veiled contempt. While Bregan knew the extent of the Architect's plan and the devastation it would have brought to the surface lands, he and the Architect had not shared that full knowledge with Bregan's sister, the Grey Warden Commander Genevieve. Maric told Loghain that Genevieve had finally realized the Architect's true intent while they were at Kinloch Hold; Maric, Duncan, and Fiona helplessly chained and watching the entire ordeal until Duncan had managed to free them. It was shortly thereafter that the battle between the Grey Wardens, the Architect, and that sniveling lickspittle First Enchanter Remille began. Loghain and the King's army arrived just after the battle ended to find Kinloch Hold badly damaged, the First Enchanter's head liberated from his body—much to Loghain's delight—and the corrupted Grey Warden Bregan, who asked to be released from his corruption to find Genevieve in the beyond and apologize. In the ensuing chaos, the Architect and Utha had escaped, unseen and unheard of until recently.

Loghain looked at the creature, his eyes narrowed suspiciously and his sword gripped firmly in his hand. "And so you continue on your quest to stop the Blights," he growled, the statement both accusation and question.

The Architect's strange eyes moved to Loghain and with a slow nod of his head, acknowledged the fact. "Hundreds of thousands of my kind are killed before each Blight is turned back. The call of the Old Gods is a plague to our race." The Architect returned his gaze back to Lhiannon as if pleading for her to understand his cause. "My kind does not begin a Blight because they crave power or destruction. The call of the Old Gods is obeyed without choice; my brethren _must_ listen and obey. It is in their very nature."

"And that is your continuing purpose?" Lhiannon asked, looking at the Architect with suspicion and trepidation. "So why do you need the blood of Grey Wardens?"

"In order to become what you are—Grey Wardens—you drink the blood of darkspawn. You drink it and transform. Similarly, we must transform." The Architect paused, unclasping its hands and smoothing its robes in a strangely human fashion; Lhiannon thought that was exactly what the Architect wanted to portray—that it was not so much different than humans.

"I have created a version of the Joining ritual that uses the blood of Grey Wardens. When you perform the Joining, you take the taint into yourselves. With my Joining, we take your resistance to the taint. That is how my brethren are freed; your resistance. Within Grey Warden blood lies the key to my brethren's immunity from the call of the Old Gods."

"Oh, but let me guess," Lhiannon snorted, the sarcasm dripping in her voice. "There's still one little problem, isn't there? Something not going right with your experiments?"

The Architect looked at Lhiannon, seemingly confused by her words. He shook his head, and waved his hand. "Once my brethren are freed from their compulsion, they can think for themselves. They become sentient creatures, speaking and acting as other sentient creatures would." He paused, lowering his eyes briefly before bringing them back up to Lhiannon and the Grey Wardens again; when he spoke, his voice sounded as if he pitied his brethren. "There are some that have reacted poorly to their freedom. They are flawed. They rage against me and what I wish to do for my brethren. They crave the terrible beauty of the song." The Architect paused again, looking out from the tower to another causeway beyond. It pointed toward the causeway as it spoke. "The Mother gathers those that are flawed in an attempt to stop me. She seeks to stop the Grey Wardens as well." He turned his gaze back to the Grey Wardens and Lhiannon thought she saw a pleading expression cross his twisted face. She found herself grimacing slightly in revulsion as the Architect's unsettling eyes met hers once again. "I cannot defeat the Mother alone and I cannot continue to free the darkspawn unless she is defeated. In this case, our goals are the same."

Loghain scoffed contemptuously, glaring at the Architect as a thought suddenly clicked in his brain. He remembered the story Maric told him when they returned to Denerim after the battle at Kinloch Hold; the Architect's obsession with Grey Wardens and their blood. Freeing the darkspawn. The Old Gods. His eyes narrowed and he brought his sword to the ready. "It was _you_," Loghain began, his voice low and dangerous. "_You_ found one of the Old Gods."

With a gasp, Lhiannon turned to look at Loghain; the eyes of both Sigrun and Velanna grew wide as they stared between Loghain and the Architect. Lhiannon watched as Loghain's features darkened, becoming more dangerous than she had ever seen before. Horror settled into Lhiannon's very soul; the creature before them, in his mad quest to free the darkspawn, had unleashed the Fifth Blight on Ferelden.

"_You_ found one of the Old Gods and tried to free it. But your experiment didn't work, did it? _It started the whole fucking damned Blight,_" Loghain snarled, taking a menacing step closer to the Architect and raising his sword. Lhiannon's wide eyes moved from Loghain to the Architect, who had calmly taken a step backwards, but made no move to attack or defend itself.

"I tried to introduce Grey Warden blood to Urthemiel," the Architect admitted. "I wished to free the Old God and thus disrupt the call. It reacted poorly."

"Reacted poorly? _Reacted poorly? You started the Blight!_" Lhiannon raged at the Architect. "Your actions caused the death of countless people! You are a ghastly monster! And you wish us to _willingly _work with you?" Lhiannon raised her sword, both hands near her ear and the point aimed directly at the Architect's chest. She shifted her weight and prepared to plunge Spellweaver into the Architect's dark and maniacal heart. Before she could move, however, it pointed with one long, taloned finger at the gleaming blue silverite betrothal band on her finger.

"You have bound yourself to someone since last we met," the Architect said softly, causing Lhiannon to pause and regard it warily. The Architect looked between her and Loghain, a knowing look on its twisted face as he observed how close Loghain stood to her, ready to step in front of her if she needed protection. "I have read about such things, though I admit my understanding of such concepts is limited. However, my offer still stands to help you and your betrothed procreate. I have made a breakthrough in studying the Grey Wardens' blood, and _your _blood, very recently that I believe will help all of us. I believe that procreation is a goal of betrothal, yes? In more ways than one, our goals coincide."

Lhiannon felt her stomach drop as her anger flared. "You use my almost impossible odds of bearing a child as justification for me working with your depravity?" she whispered, her voice shaking in her rage. Loghain saw out of the corner of his eye that Spellweaver was vibrating in her hands, her fury at the Architect's words so great.

"I have hypothesized that a child born of two Grey Wardens, carrying the taint from each parent, would be doubly resistant to both the taint and the call of the Old Gods," the Architect purred, his voice trying to be calming and persuasive. "Your blood, Commander, is especially interesting and suitable; your magical abilities alone make your blood and your body react differently to the taint. I suspect this is why mages can conceive more easily." The Architect paused, taking a breath before continuing. "There is also something else in your blood that I cannot explain. Something in your blood imparts even stronger resistance to the call of the Old Gods; I suspect that the taint will progress more slowly within you due to this power."

_Avernus' research, _Lhiannon thought, her mind drifting back to Soldier's Peak and the dreadful concoction that opened her mind to the power of blood. _The old coot was onto something with his experiments to refine the Joining so the Wardens woul__d be powerful enough to defeat the demons he brought into Soldier's Peak._

The Architect plucked at his robe in an oddly human gesture. "The blood from your child would be extremely potent for my Joining. I would only require a small amount, far less than what is required now. With one small vial of blood, a great many of my brethren would be freed from the call of the Old Gods."

Both Lhiannon and Loghain looked on the Architect with abject horror, thinking its depraved plan could not get any worse.

It could.

"This child would be the link between our two kinds; it would have your resistance and would be the emancipator of my brethren. Its blood would be the perfect balance between our kind and yours. The blood of your child would create a new race of darkspawn; a race that will, at long last, be free from the Old Gods." The Architect paused, an expectant look crossing its twisted face as its eyes flicked between Lhiannon and Loghain. "Your child would be an architect of freedom and peace between your kind and mine."

Lhiannon nearly dropped Spellweaver from her hands, the horror and revulsion at the Architect's words causing her stomach to roll and her heart to nearly stop in her chest. She narrowed her eyes as she glared at the Architect, her voice adopting a low, deadly tone. "And you expect me to bear this child for you? So that you can use it as an experiment?"

The Architect tilted his head slightly as if confused. "Would this not be agreeable to you and your betrothed? I can help you conceive and carry this child. It would both free my brethren and continue your lineage."

"Conception cannot take place with the taint present; that is why conception among Grey Wardens is nearly impossible," Lhiannon growled, her mind racing with both revulsion and anger at the Architect's cruel plan. It tore at her emotions; the Architect was taking her longing for a child and twisting it into something born of nightmares.

"Of course it is not agreeable! What you speak of is madness," Loghain snarled. "You have unleashed enough madness on the Grey Wardens and Ferelden. Your depraved plans have caused the deaths of thousands and we _will not_ allow you to continue with your experiments. Especially with a child."

The Architect was unmoved by Loghain's outburst, ignoring it as he spoke instead to Lhiannon, trying to reason with her and win her acquiescence. "I have spent my existence accumulating and studying the tomes that my brethren find. There are ancient magics that can ensure the child's survival," the Architect said, his hands spreading in supplication. "My subjects have never survived long enough to prove the hypothesis. However, you, Commander, are different."

Lhiannon glanced toward her side as she heard an almost feral growl coming from Loghain. His face was twisted into a dark snarl, one that Lhiannon had never seen before. He took another menacing step toward the Architect, placing himself between Lhiannon and the darkspawn, his sword still at the ready. "You will not _touch_ her, or anyone else _ever _again, creature." He brought his sword up and prepared to swing when he heard the rushing of feet and a set of hands stilled his movement from behind. He turned with a growl to see Velanna behind him, holding his arm to stay his movement.

"No!" Velanna cried out. "This is what Seranni saw. The Architect can be an ally against the darkspawn! An ally that lives amongst them. We cannot pass up this opportunity to defeat them from within."

Lhiannon whirled about, glaring at Velanna in disbelief as Loghain roughly shook his arm free of her grasp. "What in the bloody hell are you _thinking_, Velanna?" Lhiannon gasped, disbelief in her voice. "The price of working with this creature is too high. Who is to say that the darkspawn won't continue to be warmongering when they _do_ become sentient? And what about the surface lands? Are you prepared to see _millions _die when the Architect and his disciples spread his new blight disease? Because no matter what you believe and what he says, _he will unleash it_ to see his goals achieved."

"Velanna, this whole things just _reeks_ of stupid," Sigrun pleaded, looking up at the elf with a hard expression on her face. "I understand you are concerned about your sister, but that creature we saw earlier _is not her._ Not any longer."

"Shut up, dwarf," Velanna snarled, still watching Loghain warily to make sure he did not make a move toward the Architect. "Seranni is still alive and I will help her in any way I can."

Sigrun shook her head at Velanna, her face twisting in a sneer. "The last thing we need are darkspawn thinking for themselves. I've seen enough of them in the Deep Roads to know that would be a _really_ bad idea."

"The price of helping the Architect is too high, Velanna," Lhiannon growled, taking a menacing step toward the elf. "I will not allow the Grey Wardens to be a part of his schemes. _I _will not be a part of his schemes. His experiments have not worked before and they certainly won't work now."

"Commander, I ask you to reconsider," the Architect said, his hands apart as if in supplication. "I ask for your help to defeat the Mother. When she is gone, I ask to be left to continue my work; it _can_ be perfected."

"The Architect is a visionary, Commander," Velanna argued, pointing to the creature with her staff in emphasis. "Let him continue his work. He can perfect a way to defeat the darkspawn from within and end the Blights altogether." Velanna reached out and grasped one of Lhiannon's hands in her own, squeezing it tightly in her plea. "Don't be foolish, Commander. This is our opportunity to end the Blights _forever_!"

"Enough of this," Loghain growled, slashing his hand through the air in emphasis. "This ends now. Leaving this creature alive will only make things worse. It deserves to die for what is has done."

"I won't ally with him, Velanna," Lhiannon agreed, yanking her hand from Velanna's grasp and pointing at the Architect. "He started the Blight! Loghain saw what he did to the Grey Wardens at Kinloch Hold during King Maric's reign. His plan would have killed _millions_." Lhiannon turned back toward the Architect, raising Spellweaver as Loghain raised his sword. Lhiannon heard the snick of Sigrun's weapons also being removed from their holsters and readied in her hands.

"This ends now, creature," she snarled at the Architect. "Your days of experimenting are over."

The Architect shook his head sadly. "How very unfortunate, but I cannot blame you. You are bound to your nature as I and my brethren are bound to ours." The creature turned to where Utha stood on the stairway above, looking down on the events unfolding below with barely concealed hatred. "I am sorry, Utha. It appears I will not be able to keep my promise to you after all."

Utha quickly turned and disappeared from view as the Architect returned his gaze to the Grey Wardens. "You will forgive me, Commander, for fighting to preserve my destiny." The Architect raised its staff, sickly green light coalescing at the tip and beginning to pulse with power. Lhiannon lunged at the Architect, a primal shout coming from her that drew the Architect's attention to her. She swung her sword at the Architect and the creature was forced to parry her blow with his staff as it tried to continue casting the spell. Loghain took advantage of Lhiannon's misdirection, quickly lunging at the creature with his shield, hoping to knock it off balance and disrupt whatever spell it was preparing to cast. His shield connected with the creature, knocking it off its feet. Suddenly, Loghain felt a weight on his back and fists pounding about his head. The smell of corruption at close range told him it was Utha attacking him, her fists like boulders hitting his body.

Sigrun saw the corrupted dwarf leap at Loghain. She quickly brandished her daggers in front of her, slashing at the heavily armored Utha as she continued to strike at Loghain. A subtle glow settled upon him and Sigrun heard Velanna's voice chanting in Dalish, casting a healing spell on the angry Warden. Sigrun's daggers landed in a gap in Utha's armor, causing the corrupted dwarf to let go of Loghain and fall to the ground. Sigrun was immediately on her, fighting hand to hand as they rolled on the floor of the chamber.

Lhiannon was still swinging Spellweaver at the Architect, forcing the creature to engage her with his staff so he could not cast a spell. Lhiannon thought her tactics were working until a fireball erupted from the Architect's outstretched hand, hitting her square in the chest from close range and burning her exposed skin. Lhiannon shouted in pain and shock, the bright flash of the fireball blinding her and causing hot tears to run out of her singed eyes as she stumbled and nearly toppled over. She fought the panic threatening to overwhelm her; she could hear the battle around her, but was unable to see, her vision rapidly turning dark. She hastily chanted a healing spell on herself, but at best, her vision remained unfocused, Loghain's bulk nothing more than a large blot in her vision and the searing pain making her nauseous.

"Velanna! I need you!" Lhiannon shouted, trying to back away from where she last remembered the fighting taking place. She heard Loghain grimace in pain and felt the magical energies swirling around them. A hand on her shoulder nearly made Lhiannon spin about and strike with her sword; she heard Velanna hiss in frustration. "It is I, Commander," she elf snarled, chanting in Dalish and weaving the healing spell.

Lhiannon watched her vision return, Loghain's blurry form becoming sharp and in focus as her eyes healed. The Architect held him in a crushing prison several feet above the floor, Loghain's face twisting in agony as the Architect increased the power of the spell. Lhiannon broke away from Velanna's touch, chanting a spell summoning a boulder and aiming it at the Architect's back. The boulder flew from Lhiannon's hand, crashing into the Architect's back with a loud thud. The creature stumbled forward, its concentration broken. Loghain's paralyzed form suddenly crashed to the ground in a loud clatter of metal on stone. Lhiannon kicked the Architect to the ground and then quickly directed a healing spell at Loghain, healing the worst of his injuries as he got to his feet precariously. Loghain's eyes were momentarily confused, as if he could not remember where he was. Recognition quickly dawned in them, however, as he picked up his shield and prepared to attack the Architect again.

Sigrun and Utha continued to fight each other hand to hand. They had both regained their feet, trading punches and blocks until each was battered and bloody. Sigrun had lost her knives at some point during the fight and she was looking to get at least one of them in hand again. For all of Utha's age, she still fought like a young warrior and had years of experience on Sigrun. Sigrun spotted one of her daggers nearby and made a leap for it, only to have Utha kick the small blade away and leap onto Sigrun's back, her hands wrapped around Sigrun's neck and choking the life from her. Sigrun's vision began to grow blurry and black tendrils began to appear when Utha's hands suddenly disappeared from around Sigrun's throat. Coughing and gasping for air, Sigrun turned over and saw Utha waving madly at a swarm of stinging insects that Velanna had conjured. The insects massed over Utha, turning her form into a roiling ball of buzzing wings. Utha silently flailed about, running in different directions to try and escape the mass of insects consuming her. Utha's struggles began to weaken as the swarm intensified; the corrupted dwarf ran from the chamber, the swarm close behind.

Lhiannon and Loghain were pressing their advantage on the Architect, backing the creature into a corner of the chamber. The Architect conjured a fireball and aimed it at Loghain, who at the last second raised his shield and deflected the brunt of the spell, only a small amount of the heat and flame reaching him to singe his skin. Lhiannon cast a healing spell on him, helping to keep his strength high as he once again launched himself at the Architect. The creature anticipated Loghain's rush and moved aside, casting a lightning spell at Loghain, hitting his armor and arcing over the metal in a dazzling display of sparks. Loghain grimaced in pain as the spell raced over his armor, sending stinging sensations all through his body. He fought through the pain, lurching toward the Architect to press his attack. He watched as Lhiannon flanked the Architect, slashing at the creature with Spellweaver.

The Architect hissed in pain as the blade cut his corrupted flesh, ichor streaming from the wounds. With a desperate wave of his hand, it cast a spell that caused a wave of power to emanate from it, hurling Lhiannon and Loghain away with such force that they flew across the chamber to impact the wall on the opposite side. Velanna and Sigrun were also caught up in the wave of magic, impacting the wall not far from here Lhiannon and Loghain hit. The Grey Wardens slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned by the force of the spell.

Lhiannon began to regain her senses, standing unsteadily on her feet and drawing several deep breaths to center herself. She heard a crack and a rumble from above them and saw part of the ceiling begin to crash down toward them. Loghain was quickly on his feet and stood in front of the other three Grey Wardens, holding his shield above them at an angle and pressing them back toward the wall to protect them as best he could with his large frame. Masonry rained down, the pieces impacting his shield and ringing in a loud cacophony. Lhiannon peered out from around Loghain's shield, seeing the masonry falling between them and the Architect, cutting them off from each other. The creature was trying to hold his arms above his head to shield itself from the falling debris. Several large pieces struck the creature, threatening to knock it off its feet to be buried below the masonry that continued to rain down upon him.

A shadow quickly crossed the room near the Architect, coming to his side as Lhiannon watched. It was the dwarf, Utha. She was covered in ichor and sores from Velanna's spell. She moved to the Architect's side as the boulders continued to rain down. Lhiannon watched as the dwarf grabbed the Architect by his robes, pulling the creature toward the stairs leading to the open doorway they had appeared in when the Grey Wardens initially entered the chamber from the causeway.

Lhiannon saw what Utha was trying to do and screamed. "_No!"_ She began to call upon her power, preparing to rain fire down upon them when the Architect waved his hand, paralyzing the Grey Wardens in place as he had the first time they encountered him. The spell was weak, however, and Lhiannon continued to call upon her power to break the spell. As she gathered her power and felt the Architect's spell begin to loosen its hold, she watched in horror as Utha pulled the Architect up the stairs toward the doorway above. With one last wave of his hand, the Architect directed his power up at the remains of the ceiling above them, causing it to crash down upon the stairway, destroying them and covering the doorway in which he and Utha disappeared.

* * *

_A/N: Some brief notes here. Lhiannon learned blood magic way back when from Avernus' alchemical concoction at Soldier's Peak. No Guereins were harmed in the making of this chapter. :) Also, I know Wardens have difficulty conceiving children, though it is not unheard of (see Fiona in "The Calling"). In my head, it's the presence or absence of the taint at the time of conception that determines if it takes place. I would think that in a "newer" Warden, the taint has not completely destroyed the ability to conceive children; as time passes, the ability to conceive grows more and more remote as the taint slowly progresses. ____Since mages are somewhat fundamentally different because of their abilities, that could also have an impact on conception (again, see Fiona). __Morrigan, of course, used magic to make sure her child HAD the taint. ______Anyway, that's my train of thought; my muse sometimes takes me to dark places._

___Yes, I've tweaked canon again, letting the Architect live after fighting him. I wonder if we will see him again. Hmm... ;)_

_Special thanks as always to reviewers Aura of Darkness Night, Shakespira, Arsinoe, icey, and Enaid Aderyn. Thanks so much for all your support._

___Sleepyowlet: I told you the new chapter was coming! ;) I hope to see more fro__m YOU too!_

_Thanks to all the readers...you guys rock!  
_


	50. Insanity's End

Lhiannon had been watching Utha drag the Architect off with an expression of mute horror when she felt a hand grip the lip of her backplate, dragging her through the remaining doorway and onto the causeway beyond. She hardly registered the fact that she was moving until she nearly stumbled over her own feet.

"Come on, Commander, move," Loghain barked, dragging Lhiannon along like she were little more than a sack of grain. "We have to leave before the whole roof crashes down on our heads!" He pulled her along for several steps before she came to her senses and moved with him. They had just passed through the doorway onto the causeway beyond when a large section of the roof came crashing down, landing where they had stood only seconds before. Dust and ancient spider webs rolled out of the chamber like a dirty gray fog, coating everything it touched with its filth. The cloud enveloped the Grey Wardens, causing them to wheeze and cough as the dust settled into their lungs. Lhiannon cast a healing spell upon the group, quickly silencing the coughing before they could draw even more attention to themselves; the crashing of the ceiling had alerted a number of darkspawn to their presence, causing the taint to roil with the increased activity.

Turning from the ruined tower, the Grey Wardens began to move along the causeway toward the next tower that lay at the end. They had not ventured more than a few steps down the causeway when a great roar pierced the air around them. They quickly turned to see yet another armored ogre rushing toward them, bellowing its rage and driving it and the large number of childer grubs following behind it into a battle frenzy. The ogre leaped at the Grey Wardens, who scrambled out of the way just before being tackled and pinned under its mass. As it worked to regain its footing, Velanna began chanting in Dalish; enormous roots burst forth from the ground, wrapping around the ogre's limbs and slowing the beast's progress as it roared in anger and frustration. Loghain and Sigrun fell upon the beast as it struggled to free itself from the roots. They slashed at the ogre, working to bury their blades in the unprotected parts of the ogre's flesh. As Velanna's mana waned and the roots began to slowly withdraw, the ogre's struggles began to weaken from the onslaught. Sigrun placed one of her daggers between her teeth, pulling her small frame up the ogre's back with her free hand. She reached the ogre's shoulders and grasping both blades in her hands, she drove them into the unprotected flesh just below the ogre's helmet and into its neck, twisting her blades and groaning with the effort. The ogre convulsed twice, then fell forward and became still.

As Velanna cast her spell at the ogre, Lhiannon unleashed a large bolt of lightning from her outstretched hand toward the children, the bolts jumping from grub to grub and causing great blisters to appear on their flesh, oozing dark ichor as they burst open and wept. Though they were weakened from the spell, they continued to move toward the Grey Wardens, their shrieks filling the air and assailing their senses. Lhiannon swung Spellweaver at the approaching grubs, beheading one just as another leaped at her. She barely dodged the creature, stepping aside at the last second and blasting it with a magical bolt as she moved. She looked to where the other three Wardens were finishing off the ogre and scoffed. "I could use a little help here!" she shouted, holding Spellweaver out at a rushing grub, watching as the creature impaled itself on it. Several other grubs rushed toward her, preparing to overwhelm her with their numbers when Lhiannon saw a flash out of the corner of her eye. Loghain had rushed forward, swinging his shield at one of the approaching grubs, knocking it onto its back where Sigrun quickly plunged her daggers into it, stopping its squeals and stilling its movements.

The Grey Wardens continued along the causeway toward the tower at the far end, fighting more grubs that emerged from their sickly cocoons along the path. The stench of burning corruption hung in the air as Lhiannon used fire to drive the grubs back while Velanna healed and used her nature magic to cause havoc among the grubs. Charred and dismembered bodies soon littered their path, the air around them falling silent. The Grey Wardens finally reached the tower, descending yet another flight of stairs to find more darkspawn and another sentient disciple waiting for them. The closer they came to the bottom of the stairs, the thicker the ranks of the darkspawn became, their fighting becoming more urgent as they progressed. Through magic and steel, the last of the darkspawn harrying them were defeated, bodies tumbling down the stairs to pile upon one another at the bottom. A heavy silence wrapped around them like a shroud, thick and oppressive. Lhiannon felt the hair on the back of her neck beginning to stand as she felt a new malevolent surge in the taint now that the other masses of darkspawn had been defeated.

Loghain saw Lhiannon's face go pale and slack. He furrowed his brows as he approached, shaking ichor from the recent battle off his sword. "Commander, what is it?" he asked warily, feeling the apprehension coming off her in waves. She brought her eyes up to meet his and Loghain saw the fear in them.

"Can you feel it? The taint…something is very, _very_ wrong here," she said softly, her eyes beginning to dart from side to side looking for unseen danger. She felt like prey, waiting in the shadows for the predator she knew was near to leap out and snap her up in its jaws.

Loghain opened himself to the taint in his blood and began to feel what Lhiannon was describing. There was a dark feel to the taint, malevolent and irrational. He felt his spine turn to ice at the wrongness he felt in the air and within the taint.

"Yes," Loghain confirmed, looking at Lhiannon with concern. "Whatever is here, it is both dangerous and insane." He turned to look at Velanna, her expression one of bleak sadness since their encounter with Seranni. "Velanna, heal everyone and then take your lyrium. Whatever this 'Mother' is, she is without doubt close by."

Velanna nodded numbly, her hands weaving the spell as her voice spoke the words in Dalish, devoid of emotion. She seemed to be simply going through the motions, her mind and soul numbed by the encounters with both Seranni and the Architect. As she spoke, a subtle blue glow enveloped the Grey Wardens, healing the worst of their wounds and restoring their stamina. Once the spell faded, Velanna reached into her pack and withdrew a lyrium flask, draining the contents.

The doorway at the bottom of the tower led not to another causeway, but into a large chamber beneath the earth. Fetid water dripped from stalactites that hung from the roof of the cavern to collect into stinking pools below. Phosphorescent lichen lined the walls, imparting a sickly green glow to the area around them. The temperature had dropped significantly as they traveled through the Dragonbone Wastes and into the ruins; the Wardens could see their breath in front of them as they breathed. The damp chill began to settle into Loghain's bones; he knew he would be feeling every single ache and pain from recent days very soon.

Loghain took the point, his shield held in front of him to protect himself and the others behind them. Lhiannon followed close behind, Spellweaver at the ready. Velanna followed, the tip of her staff glowing as she prepared to focus her magic. Sigrun took up the rear, glancing warily all around her and prepared to give warning if anything should jump from the shadows behind them.

The further they traveled through the dark, dank cavern, the more intense the feeling of wrongness grew. Black corruption coated the walls and the air was filled with the stench of it. The Wardens were nearing a curve in the path before them when they heard rustling from ahead, followed by a singsong voice humming a strange tune, beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Loghain turned to the Wardens behind him, holding a finger up to his mouth for silence, then held his arm out to keep them back as he peered around the corner. He quickly pulled his head back and turned to the other Grey Wardens. Lhiannon saw the color drain from his face and his jaw clench together tightly.

"Loghain, what is it?" Lhiannon whispered, sure that she would not like the answer.

"I believe we have found the lair of the Mother," he whispered. "I can't quite tell from this distance, but it appears to be an enormous broodmother."

Sigrun wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Of _course_ it would be the largest broodmother ever. I mean, it would be too easy if it were just a _normal_ broodmother. Nothing is ever easy for us."

"Well, we've come this far," Lhiannon said, looking at Loghain and giving him a wink. "Might as well kill this bitch and go home."

Loghain scoffed, a wry grin on his face. "It would be rude to disappoint her, to come all this way without saying so much as hello." Settling his shield on his arm again, Loghain led them around the corner and into the inner sanctum of the Mother.

Lhiannon saw as they drew closer that the broodmother had been human once. She appeared to be young and thin, with dark hair and pale skin. Now, she was corrupted and dangerously insane. From the waist up, she still appeared mostly human but for the blood red eyes and streaks of corruption running down her face. Her lower arms were black and twisted with corruption, claws protruding from her fingertips. Her appearance from the waist down was another matter all together. She had grown to many times her normal size, rows of teats lining the bloated and corrupted flesh. Tentacles waved in the air, lashing to and fro in a strange rhythm as she crooned her singsong melody. Her legs, if she had any, were nowhere to be seen.

The Grey Wardens approached slowly and tentatively, taking note of the now all too familiar sacks lining the walls of the cavern. Not only was she breeding hurlocks, but there were larval childer grubs throughout the cavern as well. The Mother waved her upper body back and forth in rhythm with the singsong tune she hummed, her tentacles waving along with her body. She suddenly stopped, whipping her head around to face the intruders in her lair. Her tentacles began to twitch dangerously. Lhiannon watched as she appraised the Grey Wardens as they approached, glaring at each one as they fanned out and faced her. The Wardens stopped their forward progress, watching the Mother warily. After a moment where the silence hung thick in the cavern, the Mother began to laugh, her voice rough, scratchy, and dangerously insane.

"My, if it isn't the hero of the hour!" The Mother exclaimed, clapping her hands in front of her in mock happiness. "The hero, the one who defeated the almighty Father, comes to claim a just reward! What an absolutely _delicious_ day this has become! But where are my manners, I should _thank _you for what you have done! I can feel the Father no more. He is gone!"

Lhiannon scoffed at the Mother, her disgust for the creature evident. "Wow, someone is full of evil and hate. Typical darkspawn."

Loghain leaned down toward Lhiannon's ear, scoffing slightly as he did so. "You should not say such things, Commander. You'll only flatter the creature."

"Ugh, do all broodmothers smell this bad?" Sigrun asked, waving a hand in front of her face in an effort to drive the stench of corruption away. "I've never been this close to one, but it's pretty disgusting. Worse than Oghren even."

Velanna simply stared at the broodmother, her face twisted in fear and revulsion. Her hand moved in the air, seemingly tracing a glyph with her slender fingers. "Great creators, protect us from this evil. I have never seen such foulness in a creature."

The Mother threw her head back and laughed, the maniacal sound causing Lhiannon's spine to turn to ice and her stomach to lurch in fear. The Mother brushed a hand across her corrupted face, caressing the skin as a lover would. "Do you not think I'm beautiful?" she giggled, moving her hands from her face to run down her sides, her body moving sinuously. "I was a beautiful creature once, listening to the beautiful music with my children until _the Father_ came along." The Mother suddenly stopped giggling, her eyes narrowing as the looked at the Grey Wardens with contempt. "Have you come to kill the Mother? Come to send me to wondrous oblivion?"

Lhiannon glared at the Mother, Spellweaver held at her side. Loghain stood next to her, his shield and sword at the ready. "Well, I suppose that depends," Lhiannon said, rubbing her chin in thought as she watched the Mother; there was no way in creation she was going to let the creature live, but if she were to gain any insight on the Mother, this was the time. "I want some answers from you first."

The Mother laughed, the sound grating their ears and echoing off the walls of the chamber, creating a strange harmonic cacophony around them. "Answers? My you are a brave one. That, or foolish." The Mother closed her eyes, humming her strange tune again. Her body began to sway, tentacles waving in time to the melody before the Mother abruptly stopped, opening her red eyes to stare defiantly at Lhiannon. "Once there was beautiful music; oh so beautiful. Music from the deep." The Mother leaned closer to the Grey Wardens, her voice lowering as if she were sharing a secret. "It called for us. It wanted us to come, to see it. So we searched for the voice and listened to its beautiful song."

The Mother pulled back, humming her singsong tune for a few bars before she slashed her arms through the air, cutting off her own music as if a switch turned it off. "But the Father," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "The Father, _he _was flawed. _He_ only heard a small piece of the song, a mere shadow of it. _He_ hated what the beautiful song did to us."

Lhiannon watched warily as the Mother brought her hands up to her face and appeared to weep. Dark, corrupted tears appeared to flow down the Mother's face before she suddenly scratched at her corrupted skin and screamed in rage.

"The Father wanted to free us, he said. He didn't free us…all he did was make the music stop." The Mother clasped her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head as if to clear it from cobwebs. "The silence! Oh, the dreadful _silence_! I cannot bear the silence!" The Mother stopped shaking her head but kept her hands over her ears, her whimpers becoming growls as her eyes opened wide and she glared at the Grey Wardens once again.

"But now, the Father is gone. Gone, gone, gone…and the Mother can take her children down. Down, down, down, deep, deep into the earth to care for them. Oh my children, I will take care of you…I will keep you safe and sound. We shall sing our song together..." The mother wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth and beginning to hum her singsong tune again.

Lhiannon turned to the Grey Wardens around her. Sigrun and Velanna's gaze flicked between Lhiannon and the disturbing writhing and humming of the Mother. She then turned her gaze to Loghain, who looked at her with fierce determination in his icy blue eyes. He held her gaze and slowly nodded, his resolve thrumming through the taint between them. Lhiannon returned Loghain's nod, pouring her own resolve into the taint linking them. Between them, they would end the madness of the Mother.

Lhiannon turned her gaze back toward the Mother, bringing Spellweaver to the ready in front of her. She saw Loghain bring his own sword and shield to bear and heard Sigrun and Velanna moving into position behind her. The Mother suddenly stopped her writhing and humming, her corrupted red eyes opening widely as she glared at Lhiannon, her look both dangerous and insane.

"What will you do with the Mother?" the creature whispered, her tentacles held rigidly straight around her, waiting for Lhiannon's response. Lhiannon took a step forward, Loghain directly beside her, flooding her with his strength and confidence.

"You will breed no more," Lhiannon growled. Every nerve in her body was on edge, the energy flowing through her body preparing her to fight. She welcomed it.

"Then the silence ends here," the Mother snarled. "Perhaps we will all hear the beautiful song again when we die. Let it come, oh the song! _Let it come!_ The Mother leaned forward with a scream as the flesh pulled away from her face, revealing the corrupted tissue and bone behind it. Her tentacles began to wave madly, striking out at the Grey Wardens, who barely moved themselves out of the way. The Mother began to cry out in a ululating scream and Lhiannon was horrified to see the larval sacs along the walls burst open, pouring out mass quantities of childer grubs.

Velanna began to chant her spells, calling forth roots from the earth to impale the grubs before they could overwhelm the Grey Wardens. Lhiannon also called forth her power, flames shooting from her hand to lay waste to a number of grubs that began to scuttle her way. As the magical fire rolled over the grubs and set them ablaze, Lhiannon heard a terrified squeal from behind her. She quickly turned and saw Sigrun in the grip of one of the Mother's tentacles, the corrupted appendage squeezing around Sigrun's chest as it held her high above the ground. Lhiannon watched as Sigrun's eyes grew wide and her lips begin to turn blue from lack of breath. Lhiannon quickly sprinted toward the tentacle, screaming a lightning spell and aiming it toward the tentacles, working to keep the neighboring ones away from her and Sigrun. As she reached the tentacle squeezing Sigrun, she swung Spellweaver with both hands, burying the enchanted sword into the corrupted flesh and cleanly slicing it in two. Sigrun fell to the ground with a loud thump, her chest heaving as she regained her breath and scampered away from the flailing appendage. Lhiannon quickly ran to Sigrun's side, breathing a healing spell on her to help her regain her strength.

The Mother screamed in agony, whipping her head around to see her amputated tentacle. As Sigrun darted off to attack several grubs trying to flank Loghain, Lhiannon quickly lunged at the Mother with Spellweaver, sinking it into the broodmother's side. The Mother turned her full attention to Lhiannon, her tentacles moving in to pull Lhiannon away. Lhiannon felt a tentacle wrap around each of her ankles, yanking her and Spellweaver away from the Mother's hide. She felt herself being lifted off the ground for a split second, the world spinning madly around her before she crashed face first back into the dirt, the grit being forced into her skin and her lungs as she took a gasping breath from the shock of the impact. The tentacles began to writhe, dragging Lhiannon along the ground in their wake before they suddenly stopped and the Mother screamed once again. Lhiannon raised her head as she heard the telltale sounds of massive roots erupting from the ground nearby. The tentacles unwound from her legs, thrashing about on the ground behind her as she shakily rose to her feet. Wiping the blood and dirt out of her eyes, Lhiannon looked behind her to see the tentacles being pulled to pieces by the roots enveloping them, Velanna standing off to the side and chanting her spell.

As Lhiannon and Velanna distracted the Mother's tentacles, Loghain took the opportunity to directly engage the broodmother itself. He used his shield to throw aside a grub that attempted to launch itself at him before releasing his grasp on the shield and dropping it, gripping his sword in both hands and swinging at one of the Mother's outstretched arms. His swing was true; the sword sliced through the tissue and bone of the Mother's arm, cleaving it off near the elbow. The Mother screamed again, using one of her remaining tentacles to lash out at Loghain, throwing him off his feet and into a stalactite behind him. His vision momentarily darkened and blurred, bright stars crossing the darkness as he slumped to the ground. Suddenly, his vision cleared and he felt his strength return; he looked about to see Lhiannon's hand outstretched toward him from where she had crept behind the Mother, casting a healing spell in his direction. Quickly nodding his thanks, he scrambled to his feet and prepared to attack the broodmother again.

A rain of boulders began to pelt the Mother as Lhiannon chanted an earth spell. The Mother flailed with her one hand, the stump of her amputated arm spraying ichor all around as the creature tried to swat the boulders away. Velanna quickly joined Lhiannon with a spell of her own, more massive roots appearing around the Mother, piercing her corrupted flesh as they burst forth from the ground. Ichor ran from the Mother's wounds and the smell of corruption hung heavy in the air. The Mother screamed in rage and lashed out with her remaining tentacles, knocking Lhiannon back off her feet. She quickly sprang back up, however, as the force behind the writhing tentacles was weakening rapidly.

Loghain saw an opening to once again directly engage the Mother. He moved quickly toward the Mother as Lhiannon flanked the creature, slashing at its hide with Spellweaver to draw the creature's attention to her. Loghain moved to face the Mother directly as Lhiannon had it distracted. With a guttural roar, Loghain gripped his sword with both hands and charged at the Mother.

Lhiannon looked up to see Loghain charging unswervingly at the Mother. His braids and hair pulled back from his face as he sprinted toward the creature, the roar from his lips filling her ears. She said a quick prayer to the Maker as he launched himself through the air at the Mother. The creature turned to look at him as he approached, a wild, insane scream erupting from her corrupted face a split second before Loghain thrust his sword into the Mother's mouth with a roar, his momentum forcing the blade completely through the creature's head and stopping only when the hilt became flush with her face, the crunching of breaking bone resounding loudly in the chamber. The creature thrashed about, odd strangled noises coming from her mouth for several moments before her head rolled backwards fell still.

Loghain leaped back off the Mother's twitching corpse, landing on his feet with a heavy thud. He bent over at the waist, breathing heavily, the sound loud in the now quiet chamber. Lhiannon sheathed Spellweaver and went to his side, placing her hands on him and whispering the words to a healing spell. He nodded his thanks as his breaths began to gradually slow.

Her hands still on Loghain, Lhiannon looked up at the dead broodmother, looking at the sword that penetrated the Mother's head. Loghain turned to look at her and she merely shook her head, a grin crossing her features. Lhiannon heard a low whistle from Sigrun, who had walked up to the Mother and stared at Loghain's sword where it lay buried in the Mother's face. "Well, can't say I've ever seen a broodmother die like _that_ before."

"Hopefully…you never…will again…" Loghain replied between his heavy breathing, finally standing upright and looking at his sword. He turned to Lhiannon with a brow raised, the sweat still rolling down his face and lending a sheen to his skin. "I suppose that is one way to kill a broodmother."

"Not exactly how I would have done it, but effective nonetheless," Lhiannon agreed as Sigrun bounded up to Loghain to hand him his shield. Loghain nodded his thanks, guiding his shield onto his back, grimacing at the aches that were beginning to settle into his muscles. Lhiannon pulled Loghain's arm around her shoulder to lead him out of the chamber. Sigrun scrambled up the broodmother, grimacing as she pulled Loghain's sword from the Mother. She quickly leaped off the Mother, running up to Loghain and holding out the sword hilt first. "It would be _really _bad luck to leave this sword behind after such a kill."

"Indeed," Loghain nodded, taking the sword and settling it into its scabbard. "There has been enough bad luck for all of us."

The Grey Wardens made their way back through the towers and causeways, pausing for a time to search the tower with the newly collapsed roof for signs of the Architect, Utha, or any of his experiments. They picked at the rubble, moving enough of it aside to see the hallway the creatures had escaped through; to their great disappointment, there was no sign of them. Velanna cursed in Dailsh before she turned and left the chamber, heading out ahead of the other Grey Wardens toward the Dragonbone Wastes. Lhiannon felt her stomach sink; she _knew _they had not seen the last of the Architect. The taint had fallen silent, but for how long? Loghain sensed her fear and came to her side as she looked down the ruined hallway, her gaze far away. "If he shows himself again, we will deal with him," he said confidently, placing a hand on her shoulder. Lhiannon found the weight of his hand a comfort, lifting her spirits as his words faded. She feared what would happen when the Architect showed itself again.

Not _if,_ but _when_.

* * *

_A/N: Would YOU tell the Mother that the Architect wasn't dead? Lhi wasn't about to either. So long as the Mother thinks the Architect is dead (or gone), why agitate her any further? She's nuts enough already; no sense adding fuel to that fire._

_Only one chapter to go. *sniffle* I hope to have it up early this weekend and the first chapter of the sequel shortly thereafter.  
_

_As always, special thanks and appreciation to my reviewers: Shakespira, Dante Alighieri, icey cold, sleepyowlet, Grannaah, Arsinoe de Blassenville, and Aura of Darkness Night. My reviews are at 293...can I get to 300? ;)_

_Thanks to all of the readers as well! I appreciate you taking the time to read the story and am glad you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it.  
_


	51. As One Ends, So Another Begins

"We must find the Architect and Seranni."

They were all covered in bruises, bone weary from their trials in the Dragonbone Wastes. They were barely on the road back to Vigil's Keep when Velanna began to demand that they turn around and continue the search for the Architect within the ruins of Drake's Fall. Lhiannon sighed to herself; it was not the Architect Velanna wanted to find, but Seranni; the Architect was her justification. Part of Lhiannon could hardly blame Velanna, but Seranni was likely long gone by now, both physically and mentally. The creature they saw in the tower may have looked like Seranni, but it was clear that the corruption had quickly taken hold of her faculties, turning her into an elven disciple of sorts, bent on seeing the will of the Architect done with little regard for anything else.

The taint had quieted considerably, and quickly, since the death of the Mother; the Architect was likely retreating into the Deep Roads with his subjects, bringing further calm to the taint and the Thaw following the Blight. Lhiannon knew that they would eventually need to search for the Architect, most likely beginning in the Wending Wood where they had been taken captive by the creature months ago. They also had to investigate where the archdemon Urthemiel emerged on the surface and seal whatever breach remained. If they could find and seal that breach, the tide of darkspawn would abate considerably. It was possible that the Architect had fled in that direction as well, as the breach was likely a magnet for the fleeing darkspawn. It was time to take the Thaw Hunt to the darkspawn and seal the breach.

"Velanna," Lhiannon began, her voice betraying her weariness. "Seranni is gone, and I am so very sorry you had to witness that. She chose to remain with the Architect. You saw her; she's been corrupted, twisted into little more than a sentient darkspawn and disciple by the Architect."

Velanna's gaze narrowed at Lhiannon. "You will take that back, _Commander. _Seranni is still _herself,_" she growled, her staff coming to bear menacingly in front of her as she removed it from the rigging on her back. Loghain's eyes narrowed as heard Velanna draw her staff; he made no move to turn just yet, but opted to wait and listen.

Sigrun rushed forward, her hand clamping around the end of Velanna's staff and pulling it down and away. "Whoa, hey Velanna. Don't get all hasty. The Commander is right; that's not your sister anymore."

"The Architect's plan will stop the Blights!" Velanna protested, stopping in her tracks and jerking her staff out of Sigrun's hand. The dwarf stumbled slightly at the force of Velanna's motion. "Isn't that what we Grey Wardens do? Stop the Blights? If his plan can to that, we must consider it!"

Whirling about, Loghain took several quick steps toward Velanna and stopped before her, his icy gaze boring into Velanna's as he loomed over her. "And do you realize what 'stopping the Blights' means to such a creature? He means to spread the taint among _all _creatures, not just the humans. Are you prepared to see all the creatures in Thedas tainted? Humans, dwarves, _and_ elves? Are you prepared to have the blood of _millions_ on your hands as they die screeching, painful deaths from the taint?"

Lhiannon watched as Velanna's eyes narrowed even further, glaring at Loghain with murderous intent. She began to protest once again before Loghain made a slashing gesture in the air, silencing her words.

"You may not think much beyond your own selfish demands," Loghain continued, acid dripping in his voice. "But I assure you, the Architect's plan would eventually result in the extinction of all races in Thedas. That _would _stop the Blights, but only because there would be _nothing left_. Tainted creatures, ourselves included, have difficulty procreating. The chances of tainted creatures bearing children are infinitesimal. Eventually, the world will be all but devoid of humanoid creatures and overrun by the darkspawn that the broodmothers would continuously breed." Loghain paused a moment, waiting for his words to try and sink in to Velanna's mind. "Who is to say that the darkspawn, who would now be sentient, would not try to take blighted females and _force _them into becoming broodmothers in order to bolster their ranks?"

"Would you want that, Velanna, for _any_ female?" Sigrun asked quietly, stepping forward to stand beside Loghain and Lhiannon. "You saw the Mother. Can you see someone you know becoming one of those? Even Seranni? If the darkspawn become sentient, they will want to further their own cause. They will likely want to come out of the Deep Roads; there are few thaigs left down there and none are in livable condition. They will likely want a place to call their own: their own homeland. They will want to procreate themselves and they only way they can do that is by using broodmothers."

"You don't know that," Velanna sputtered angrily, her strange elven eyes darting between Loghain, Lhiannon, and Sigrun. "That's all the more reason to go after her now! Maybe if we cooperate with the Architect he will free Seranni and not attempt to turn her into a broodmother. We can free her and the rest of his subjects!"

Sighing heavily, Lhiannon pinched the bridge of her nose. "And where would the Architect's blighted subjects go, Velanna, where they would not be feared and despised? Their corruption is plain to see. They would be hunted and killed for what they are, especially if they can spread their corruption."

Velanna took a step back, looking at the three Grey Wardens before her with contempt. "Are you all cowards, then, not to go after the Architect? If none of you are brave enough, I shall do so on my own!"

"Absolutely not!" Loghain spat at Velanna, slashing his hand through the air. "_No one_ goes after the Architect alone, least of all you."

Lhiannon stepped forward, placing a hand on Velanna's forearm. "We _wil__l_ search for the Architect in due time," she began quietly, trying to bring calm to the increasingly volatile situation. "He has fled back into the Deep Roads; can you not feel the quiet in the taint now? We will search for him, but we also need to search for Urthemiel's breach and seal it to cut off the darkspawn's route to the surface. This is something we must plan for, not charge into blindly and ill prepared. _That _gets people killed. Most urgent now is the fate of Amaranthine; making sure the corruption does not take hold there and beginning the rebuilding efforts, if we can. That is where our immediate focus lies."

Velanna jerked her arm away, snarling at Lhiannon as she did so. "I need no preparations, _Commander_. I will go myself."

"Do you speak the King's tongue, Velanna?" Loghain snarled, earning a confused and wary glance from the elf. Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head slightly before Loghain continued. "I ask because I specifically remember stating that _no one_ goes after the Architect alone. I also remember specifically hearing the Commander state that Amaranthine is the immediate concern." Loghain brought an armored hand up, pointing a finger at her in emphasis as he spoke. "You will return to Vigil's Keep, Warden, and you will do what either the Commander or myself order you to do. _Is that in any way unclear_?"

Bright red splotches of color bloomed high on Velanna's cheeks, betraying the anger that the iron clad grip on her staff did not. Lhiannon could see her staff vibrating slightly, the depth of the elf's anger apparent to see.

"Come on, Velanna," Sigrun said quietly, moving to stand in front of Velanna and looking up at her. "Let's go home. We're all beat up and tired. We could all use some rest, a hot meal, and a warm bed. Me? I'd like a big nug steak and a mug of ale, but I'll settle for some venison stew and some cider."

Velanna glared at the other Grey Wardens, her mind spinning in a thousand directions. Even if the other Grey Wardens gave up on Seranni, _she _would not. Despite the corruption and her strangely different attitude when they saw her in the Dragonbone Wastes, Velanna knew that the real Seranni was still within the corrupted creature and she was determined to find her and bring her home. There had to be a way to bring her out from under the Architect's influence. _This isn't over yet, Commander. I won't give up on you, Seranni!_

"Very well," Velanna growled, returning her staff to the rigging on her back. She could be patient when the situation demanded it. Difficult for her at times, perhaps, but she could do it.

In the shadows of the barren landscape, a small figure darted between the rocks, watching as the Grey Wardens eventually left the rugged landscape of the Dragonbone Wastes behind, following the trail left by the fleeing darkspawn back in the direction of Vigil's Keep.

* * *

Lhiannon insisted on traveling to Amaranthine the day after they returned from the Dragonbone Wastes. Loghain could see the anguish and exhaustion on her face, and he had tried in vain to convince her to put off the trip for a few days. "Lhiannon, I can see that you are exhausted, physically and mentally," Loghain said as Lhiannon paced her office. "Amaranthine can wait a day or two while you recuperate. Let me or one of the other Wardens go to Amaranthine in your stead."

"No, Loghain," she insisted, turning from where she had stopped at the window to regard him. She had been watching the bustling repair activity in the Vigil's courtyard as Loghain spoke. "I need to see it." She paused, her eyes downcast and her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to see what I have done."

Loghain quickly strode to her, closing the distance between them in only a few strides. "Commander, _Lhiannon, _you did what you had to do. Amaranthine was all but lost when we arrived; you _know _this...you saw it yourself. It was far kinder to burn the city than to let the darkspawn have it."

Lhiannon shrugged, gesturing in supplication with her hands. "I can't help but feel that I didn't do enough, that I should have done more," she sighed. "I feel like I let the city and its people down. I _have _to go there, Loghain. I _have _to see it and the sooner, the better. We need to assess the damages and start rebuilding. If we can."

Loghain nodded slowly, knowing that talking Lhiannon out of traveling to Amaranthine would be a lesson in futility. She could be as stubborn as a mabari when her mind was set on something. "Very well then, but I will accompany you. You shall not make this trip on your own."

* * *

Lhiannon felt her heart sink as she looked at the largest city in her arling, the city the very arling itself was named after. It was almost unfathomable that this was a bustling city a mere ten days ago. Constable Aidan led her and Loghain through the city, showing them the aftermath. The city gates had been all but torn off their hinges, blown aside by the force of whatever creature managed to breach them. Numerous buildings were burned shells, still smoldering in some places, the tendrils of smoke wafting lazily upward. The Chantry still stood, but the walls had been scorched by flames from the buildings that had burned nearby. The Grey Wardens would need to carefully inspect the city and cleanse any corruption they found. In the meantime, the citizens would not be allowed within the city until the Grey Wardens deemed it safe.

Most of the central part of the city was destroyed. The Crown and Lion was little more than smoking rubble, massive piles of wood and stone had collapsed into what had been the tunnels underneath the structure. The buildings adjacent to the tavern were heavily damaged; the walls closest to the wreckage blackened by heat and soot. Those buildings would likely have to be demolished and rebuilt after they had been examined for any remnants of corruption. With all the dark soot on the buildings, it would be a tedious process.

Aidan continued to show Lhiannon and Loghain through the city. Lhiannon grew even quieter as they walked the streets, her eyes wide as she witnessed the devastation. Loghain could feel her despair, heartbreak, and guilt through their shared taint. He felt his own heart fill with despair, not only for the devastation around him and what it had done to this part of his beloved Ferelden, but also for her. She was beating herself up, questioning her own authority and ability to lead. She was questioning her decision to burn the city, wondering if there was more she could have done, wondering if she should have stayed behind to fight the Mother's army here rather than at Vigil's keep. Loghain understood her doubts; he had the same ones many times over the years. Where he was able to hide them behind a taciturn, cold exterior, Lhiannon could not. She wore her emotions plain for all to see; it was part of why Loghain loved her. She cared for her people and wanted to do right by them.

Lhiannon, however, felt like a failure.

As they exited the city through a breach in the wall, Aidan showed them a bare patch of earth, freshly smoothed and devoid of snow. "This is where the other end of the smugglers' tunnel lay," Aidan explained. Lhiannon and Loghain both nodded, remembering where the shack once stood and all the trouble it represented. Lhiannon looked about at the small buildings and houses just outside the walls of the city. As she rounded the corner of a severely damaged house, she saw a mound of earth just beyond the homes with a large area of scorched ground nearby. Loghain heard her sharp intake of breath as she recognized what exactly it was.

The mound was a grave; a large grave with the remnants of a large pyre next to it.

Loghain watched as Lhiannon slowly walked to the pyre, crouching down and reaching out with her hand, her riding leathers squeaking as she moved. She gingerly touched the edge of the pyre, dropping her head and closing her eyes. Loghain watched as her shoulders moved in a great sigh, the sound of her exhale clear in the silence around them. He came up behind her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, lending her his quiet strength and support. She remained crouched down for a moment before standing, her leather glove held in a hand as she brushed at her eyes. She turned and gave Loghain a small, wan smile that quickly fell from her face.

"Constable," Lhiannon began, her voice hoarse, "The King and Queen have promised help to rebuild Amaranthine. I have accepted that help, but we cannot wait for it to arrive. I will open the coffers of Vigil's Keep, as well as donate my own funds, to begin the rebuilding."

Aidan nodded, a small smile crossing his face as he gave Lhiannon a crisp bow. "Their help will be most appreciated, as will yours and that of the Grey Wardens."

"I suggest repairing the breaches in the walls and the city gate first, in case any small bands of darkspawn remain nearby," Loghain began, gesturing toward those said walls with his hand.

"What of the remaining citizens?" Lhiannon asked the Constable. "Do they have shelter? Food?"

Aidan shrugged. "Many people are sheltering with relatives or in the Chantry. Food is not plentiful, but it is not scarce as of yet. There are still many animals in the surrounding area—especially away from where the darkspawn initially approached the city—and we do have some people fishing in the bay. There is just enough for everyone."

"I'll send what extra supplies we can spare from Vigil's Keep. If anyone would like to come to stay there, they most certainly can," Lhiannon said, her eyes casting about once again. Though she could see the devastation before her, it was still unbelievable, unfathomable.

"Commander," Loghain said, looking toward the sky; Lhiannon saw that he was using his hand to estimate how much daylight was left. "If you wish to return to Vigil's Keep today, we should be on our way very soon."

"Very well," Lhiannon agreed quietly, turning once again toward Aidan. "Constable, I shall send aid and supplies immediately when we return to the Vigil."

Aidan saluted, nodding gratefully. "Thank you, Commander. We will welcome whatever aid you can send."

Lhiannon and Loghain turned toward where their horses were tied as Aidan walked back toward the city. They mounted their horses, setting off toward Vigil's Keep, hoping to arrive before darkness fell.

* * *

Light snow began to fall once again as Lhiannon and Loghain neared Vigil's Keep. The snow muffled the sounds around them and coated the ground in a pristine blanket of white. Lhiannon barely felt the cold, her mind numb from the destruction of Amaranthine. Loghain nudged his horse up to walk beside Lhiannon, his gaze one of concern. He reached out and brushed her leg with his hand. She looked down at his hand before turning her gaze to his. Loghain saw a profound sadness in them; his heart ached to see it.

"We are nearly home," he said quietly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She smiled wanly at his gentle touch.

"I shall be glad to get there," she sighed, reaching up to capture his hand briefly in hers. She felt him squeeze her hand gently before pulling away. She fell silent and melancholy again as they continued on.

Loghain looked ahead, seeing the form of Vigil's Keep emerge from the falling snow off in the distance. He sighed, wanting desperately to lift her flagging spirits. They had all had a difficult time in the last few days with fighting off the Mother, her armies, and the Architect; no one, however, had as difficult a time as she had. The order she gave regarding Amaranthine weighed on her heavily.

"I shall brief Varel when we arrive, let him know to prepare any extra supplies and coin to go to Amaranthine," Lhiannon said as they drew closer to the Vigil. "Would you please brief the other Wardens?"

"Of course," Loghain replied. They entered the walls of the fortress not long after, stable boys taking their horses. Loghain took both of their small packs, heading in one direction to brief the Wardens as Lhiannon went to brief Varel. Loghain made one stop before meeting the Wardens, asking the servants about two orders he had given them earlier that day. Nodding in approval at what they said, he asked that they finish their orders before Lhiannon returned to their chambers.

An hour or so later, Lhiannon returned to their chambers, bone weary and wanting nothing more than to collapse into bed after perhaps downing a bottle of West Hill brandy to dull her pain and sorrow. Her heart was heavy after witnessing Amaranthine's near destruction. _I should have done more _was a constant mantra in her head, the thought coming unbidden throughout the last few days.

Slipping her key into the lock, she entered their chambers, bolting the door behind her and beginning to unfasten the straps of her riding leathers. The room was dark, only a single wall sconce lit, which suited her just fine. The darkness in the room suited her mood. Her brows furrowed at movement out of the corner of her eye; she saw Loghain emerge from the shadows of the next room, his riding leathers replaced by his longshirt and leather trousers. He drew closer and as he did, Lhiannon saw that his hair was damp and free of its braids. He gently brushed her hands away from the straps of her riding leathers, taking over the task himself after leading her into their living quarters; she saw that only a couple of sconces were lit there as well. She smiled when she saw he had brought a meal from the kitchens, the tantalizing aroma filling her nostrils; for the first time in days, her stomach rumbled in hunger.

"Tonight," he began, his voice firm yet gentle, "you will relax. Even if I must order you."

Lhiannon scoffed lightly. "I'm the Commander here, or have you forgotten?"

"Not here, and not tonight," he stated firmly, pulling the last of her riding leathers off and setting it aside. "And as an Arlessa, I outrank you. So, come with me." Loghain took her hand, leading her to their small dining table. He had brought her one of her favorite meals: a shepherd's pie filled with meat and vegetables, topped by mashed potatoes made smooth with real cream, a luxury within the Vigil. An apple cobbler sat nearby, still warm from the ovens and no doubt made with apples picked not long before from the nearby orchards. Lhiannon looked at him, a smile on her face as she took a forkful of the pie; it was warm and heavenly. She sighed in delight.

"How were you able to get this prepared so fast?" she asked, taking the cup of wine he had poured and held out to her.

Loghain chuckled lightly, spooning a helping of the pie onto his own plate. "I asked the kitchen to prepare this before we left for Amaranthine." He watched as Lhiannon took another bite of the shepherd's pie, her eyes closing in bliss and a small smile crossing her features. He could feel some of the sadness and weight fall away from her as she ate. After another bite, she set her fork down and reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. She squeezed it gently and he reciprocated.

"This is one of the kindest things you have done for me," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. Loghain saw a deep love and appreciation in her eyes as she locked her gaze onto his.

A small smile crossed Loghain's face as he gently squeezed her hand again. "You deserved and needed it. I know I do not do such things as often as I perhaps should. Much has weighed heavily on you in recent days and I wished to lift this weight from you, if only for one evening."

Lhiannon nodded her thanks, turning her attention back to the shepherd's pie. She seriously considered scraping the remaining mashed potatoes off the top of the pie and eating those by themselves. Comfort food. Potatoes, in all their varieties, were one of her favorite foods. Loghain watched with satisfaction as she ate.

After they finished off the pie, they turned their attention to the apple cobbler. Lhiannon felt the warmth fill her as she swallowed the first bite, tasting the hints of cinnamon and nutmeg; she sighed, content.

Loghain swallowed the bite of cobbler he had just taken. "Cobbler, especially apple, has always brought a smile to my face. I hoped it would do so with you as well."

"Oh?" Lhiannon asked, her brow lifting in curiosity. She took another bite of the warm cobbler, watching Loghain with interest.

"Apple cobbler was my mother and father's favorite," he explained, pointing at the remaining cobbler with his fork as he spoke. "My mother made it every time the first apples of fall came in. She would always have to make a double batch because my father could eat one by himself." Lhiannon watched as Loghain's face became wistful. "My mother used to chastise him for eating so much of it, leaving just a small sliver for her and myself. Finally, she just gave up and began making double."

Lhiannon grinned as she finished her cobbler, a small smile that made Loghain grin in return. He placed his fork on the table and wiped his mouth with a napkin before rising and walking to Lhiannon's side. He took her hand and guided her from her chair, pulling her close. He held her gently, feeling her relax against him with a heavy sigh. He pulled back slightly after a moment, raising her chin with his hand and gazing into her dark eyes.

"Have I told you that you are beautiful?" he asked, lowering his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He felt her hum and her mouth curve into a smile beneath his lips. "If I didn't know you better," she grinned once they parted, her voice dropping low, "I would think you were trying to seduce me to make me forget my worries."

Loghain held her chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I trust it is working?"

She closed her eyes and scoffed, grinning. "Perhaps it is."

Loghain ran his hands down her arms, grasping her hands in his and pulling her into their bedchambers. Only a couple of sconces were lit here as well, but the fire in the fireplace lent a cheery glow and warmth to the room. Loghain drew her toward the stone tub, which Lhiannon saw was full of fresh water. She could smell fragrant oil in the water: lilacs, her favorite flower. She raised her eyes to his. "Now I _know _you're trying to seduce me," she said, wagging a finger at him, one side of her mouth tilted upward in a smirk.

"I have little doubt of success," Loghain said, his voice low and husky, kissing her skin as he removed her longshirt, trousers, and smalls, maneuvering her into the tub when he was finished.

"Oh, am I so easy then?" she grinned, slowly lowering herself into the warm water. Loghain scoffed as he maneuvered to the end of the tub near her head, pulling the tie from her hair to free it.

"No, I'm simply that good."

She focused a fire spell at the water, heating it gently as she settled into the water with a heavy sigh. Loghain first washed her hair with soap infused with lilac oil, smiling at the little sighs of content that Lhiannon gave him as he massaged her scalp with his fingers. She settled deeper into the tub when he finished rinsing her hair, her head resting on the lip. He helped her wash with more lilac scented soap, massaging it into her skin to loosen her tight muscles.

When they had finished Lhiannon's bath, Loghain helped her to stand, guiding her out of the tub and wrapping a bath sheet around her. He began rubbing the towel along her body to dry it before lowering his face to her skin, inhaling the lilac scent that lingered there. Her hands lightly caressed the skin of his face, causing the bath sheet to fall away. Loghain's eyes took in her naked form as she stood before him, continuing to run her fingers lightly over him. He was amazed again that this strong and beautiful woman was his, promised to him of her own free will. He lightly traced the scar on her hip with his fingers, grateful for her steadfast bravery on that day, standing over him and fighting off those that threatened them. He traced the scar at her eye with gentle lips, remembering how he had to finally admit to himself that he loved her at the time she received it. An unlikely pairing they may be, but there was no one else in the whole of Thedas that he wanted to spend the remainder of his days with. "I love you," he breathed, moving his lips from her eye to ghost along the skin near where her ear met her jaw.

Lhiannon gently pulled Loghain's shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor as her lips lightly traveled his skin. Her fingers traced his scars, the touch feather light over his chest. He was her strength when she felt hers flag, the rock that she depended on for support. He was her betrothed, the man she promised herself to, willingly and happily. There was nothing she would not do for him. "I love you," she breathed, rising onto her toes to brush his lips with hers as he pushed his trousers and smalls away. He slowly led her to their bed, gently lowering her to the soft mattress before molding his body to hers and kissing her languidly and deeply.

They were a formidable duo, strong in their faith and love of the other. They had a formidable core of Grey Wardens, ready to turn back the darkspawn threat at any time. They had strong soldiers and fighters, ready to defend the arling, the Vigil, and each other at any cost. As she snuggled into Loghain's chest after their lovemaking, she entwined her limbs within his and smiled against his skin. They had much work ahead of them, but with the two of them standing together, she knew in her very soul that there was nothing they could not accomplish.

Fin

* * *

_I thought the title to this chapter was fitting for more than one reason. First, the madness of the Mother has ended, but Lhiannon and Loghain still need to deal with the Architect and the issues with the conspiracy against her. Second, I thought it a fitting end for RA and a nice lead in to Retribution._

_Checklist for thank you time…Diet Coke, check. A box of Kleenex that will be completely used by the time I'm done with this, check. So much for me being a tough hockey chick. ;)  
_

_First off, thanks to all of you who have taken time out of your days to follow Lhiannon and Loghain's story. Thanks to everyone who took the time to review the story all along the way (especially the reviewers from the last chapter, TG2000, Shakespira, Dante Alighieri, Aura of Darkness Night, Arsinoe, and sleepyowlet). Please know that I have very much appreciated all of them! Also thanks to everyone who alerted the story and set either it or myself as a favorite. It means the world to me that I have been able to entertain you with my tale. I may not have mentioned you by name, but you know who you are, and you have my heartfelt appreciation._

_Some special thank you's to some very special authors and friends:_

_Icey cold: Trovommi Amor was the spark that lit the fire for RA. Your talent and story have been an inspiration. You've been there from the very beginning and took a noob under your wing and helped me to learn how to fly. Thank you so much for all your support and the massive amounts of giggles you have given me._

_Gene Dark: You have been there for RA since day one! I greatly appreciate all the support, ideas, and feedback that you have given me. I'm sure I'll be in your inbox soon looking to idea bounce once again. Long live the Eamon haters! Thank you!_

_Arsinoe de Blassenville: your reviews and conspiracy theories have given me much to think about, both with the flow of the story and with ideas themselves. You also have stuck it out with RA for a long time, and I appreciate it! I still love "blood mages under Denerim"!_

_Lastly, but not least, I come to you, Shakespira. I don't even know where to begin. There were times the self doubt demon nearly won and more than once I was ready to give up on RA. Your encouragement, support, and occasional gentle kick in the britches have meant the world to me. You helped me become more comfortable in my writing skin and I think it's finally starting to show! From the bottom of my heart, and with much love, __**thank you**__._

_Now everyone…your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to join me in "Retribution." I hope to see you all there! Chapter one will be posted very soon; most likely before the weekend is over._


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